


Squiggles

by StellarLibraryLady



Series: Star Trek Narsarya B [11]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Aloof Spock, Androids, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Artificial Intelligence, Awkward Kissing, Bonus Chapter, Brutal Kissing, Cuddling, Dense Spock, Desperate McCoy, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Graphic Description, Graphic Thoughts, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, McCoy Is Impressed (In More Than One Way), Messy Kisses, Narsarya B, Narsarya B "Land of the Lotus Flower", Narsarya B (Star Trek Series), Pendants, Pining McCoy, Secret Writing, Trust Issues, Unrequited Love, Unrequited Lust, hot kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-18 23:04:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellarLibraryLady/pseuds/StellarLibraryLady
Summary: Driven by his longings for an unresponsive Spock, McCoy risks everything, even his friendship with Jim Kirk and his career aboard the Enterprise, to awaken Spock's interest.  Can a proposed project save everything for McCoy, or is there some point at which even he has to accept defeat?McCoy and Spock are offered prototypes of each other which are more compliant for them.  If given a choice, though, would they still choose each other?





	1. My Heart Is Firmly In Place--On My Sleeve

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Illogicality](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11560962) by [Esperata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata). 



> The road to true love is never easy for these guys.
> 
> I was needing a catalyst in which Spock realizes concern for McCoy in this fic, and Esperata conveniently posted "Illogicality" on July 20, 2017. References to information in that fic will be scattered throughout this fic. So thanks, once again, go to Esperata for providing just exactly what I was needing, just exactly when I was needing it. It gets really strange, sometimes.

It seemed like they always came to the same spot in any personal discussion, with McCoy losing patience and Spock losing comprehension. McCoy knew he should be more patient, but it would be nice, if, just once in awhile, mind you, the Vulcan understood that his puzzlement might be responsible for the failure of their conversation and not McCoy‘s ranting. 

And now the angst had been ratcheted up a notch because feelings between the two guys were being involved.

Well, to be honest, feelings were generally involved when McCoy and Spock were talking. But it was generally not the topic of the conversation, as it was now. 

Well, that really wasn’t the truth, either. Usually, McCoy was chewing Spock’s green ass about feelings in general. Today, though, their discussion was about a particular feeling, an emotion, really. Well, to tell the bald-faced truth, it was about love, romantic love. It was about the feeling, an emotion, mind you, that one feels for another person when he (or she) wishes to become really, really, really intimate with the other party. And, in this case, the other party does not have a clue about the other’s depth of angst and frustration over being intimate.

Intimate in like getting naked, going to bed with that person, and doing the big nasty, except McCoy couldn’t be that forthright or that explicit with Spock, or Spock would be long gone. A dust cloud would be all that would remain of the Vulcan’s presence, and that would all too quickly settle around McCoy's shattered hopes for a physical intimacy with his intriguing friend.

Ambivalent feelings tore at McCoy's heart concerning this half-breed person that McCoy both loved and feared. Spock was a will-o'-the-wisp, an intangible, illusive part of McCoy's fondest daydreams and a taunting devil that haunted his most terrifying nightmares. Because McCoy both desired the Vulcan, but feared the prospect of possessing him. Spock was his hope and his curse, and McCoy was forever cursed for ever having laid eyes on the Vulcan in the first place. But what a huge part of McCoy's life would have been missing if he had never known Spock.

Spock would disappear: out of service on the Enterprise and out of whatever galaxy that McCoy and the Enterprise were currently in, but most certainly out of McCoy’s life and for good. Spock would perform a vanishing act that would have impressed even the great Harry Houdini. And knowing Spock, the dust would be barely disturbed, if at all. Dust bunnies would still be placidly residing where they had been before this ill-fated discussion between Spock and McCoy had ever begun. It would be as if Spock had floated over the floor instead of touching it with his feet, as any other mortal would. He just wouldn’t be around, anymore. And Leonard McCoy's universe would be filled with grief and darkness and an unsettling quiet. That's how much McCoy had been pining for love from the cold, heartless object of his affections. McCoy might as well have set his cap for a distant star or the Rock of Gibraltar back on Earth. They would not have loved him back, either, and they were about as cuddly as the emotionless Vulcan. 

And Jim Kirk would be permanently pissed off at McCoy for chasing off his good friend Spock. And life on the Enterprise forever after Spock's departure would feel lopsided, because, well, everyone on the Enterprise were used to Spock being around by now, warts and all. Or, in his case, green skin, pointed ears, and impertinent attitude, and all. Truth be known, the crew was rather proud of their oddball Vulcan. What other star ship could brag that they had a Vulcan officer that was also a hybrid Earthling? Besides, it made the rest of the crew feel good about themselves. In comparison to Spock, they all seemed so normal.

But if Jim Kirk would be pissed off at McCoy, then McCoy would lose both of his best friends and would still be going to bed by himself. And that would actually put him further back than he currently was. As it was, he still had a solid and easy friendship with Jim Kirk and a puzzling relationship with Spock, but still a relationship of sorts. On the surface, everything was fine. It was only when someone started picking underneath the cover scab that problems arose. And McCoy couldn’t leave well enough alone. He was always picking at that scab that kept a thin veil of tolerance and sociability on his relationship with Spock. He so wanted that scab torn off so that the unhealthy matter inside could heal in the open air. 

Then, too, as now, Spock wasn’t always mindful of the undercurrents of human relationships that swirled around him. Oh, he was aware. He just didn’t want to get involved. And McCoy wanted Spock to get involved, as in the ‘big nasty‘ type of involvement. So there was that tension between them. Plus, there were what McCoy strongly suspected to be Spock’s deliberate attempts to be dense to whatever McCoy was saying to him. But McCoy was determined to make Spock understand just what he was feeling. For once, McCoy wanted to clear the air. He wanted Spock to understand what was being offered. 

He wanted Spock to understand what he was missing out on.

The only trouble was that Spock was understanding none of what McCoy was saying, either feinted or for real. Perhaps McCoy was too subtle. Perhaps Spock was being too obtuse. The truth was they were more in the middle, with both getting slightly frustrated. Perhaps McCoy was more frustrated than Spock. But, then, it might be that it was more obvious in McCoy. Because, after all, Spock was still trying to suppress his emotions.

That didn’t mean that he didn’t have them, though.

 

“I believe, that in some way that I do not comprehend, that I am harming you, Doctor,” Spock finally decided. “And I do not wish to do that.”

“I know you don’t, Spock. You aren’t harming me so much as hurting me.“

“How?“ Spock looked alarmed. “I am not even touching you.“

“That is the problem,“ McCoy replied in a tired voice. 

“I do not understand. How can I hurt you if I am not touching you? I do not see bandages on your body, or blood flowing from open wounds, or bruises darkening on your flesh.“

“Oh, Spock, there are so many other ways to hurt people than physically. Mentally is bad enough, but emotionally is worse.” McCoy shook his head in sorrow. “Emotionally, you can kill the soul.“

That really alarmed Spock. “Emotionally? Emotions can kill the soul?“

“Yes. Oh, yes,“ McCoy answered with a smile that was almost bitter. “Of course, I shouldn’t be surprised that you can’t understand that concept. You don’t have emotions, do you?“

“I have emotions, Doctor. I simply wish to suppress them so that I do not have to go through scenes like this.“ 

It had always seemed like a sound plan to Spock, but, then, here he was with a man who was obviously upset. And not upset because Spock had done something, as is the general case. But upset because Spock had NOT done something. Earthlings were certainly confusing, and they brought a lot of it onto themselves. For instance, now McCoy was suddenly animated and acted as if Spock had said something wonderful. Spock hoped that McCoy explained, because Spock was certainly curious as to what he had done to please McCoy. After all, McCoy was a friend, and Spock did not like to see McCoy upset.

McCoy‘s face had softened. “Do you know how many times I would’ve liked to have heard you admit to something like that?“

“To having emotions? Yes, I have emotions. I simply try to suppress them.“

“Don’t we all! Spock, you’re not alone in that quest. Giving into emotion isn’t something that most of us like to do, except maybe drama queens and third-rate actresses. It’s a loss of control, and none of us really wants to do that. You don’t have an exclusive right to that battle.”

“You sound bitter, Doctor.”

“Damn right, I’m bitter! And I’m tired. But I can’t sleep.” He amended what he’d just said to make it more precise, because it was, after all, Spock who he was talking to. And Spock had trouble understanding simple speech, especially if it was McCoy doing the talking. “I’m too tired to sleep, Spock. And during times like that, I tend to tell the truth and not very diplomatically.” He paused, but not long enough to suit himself. “Yeah, I keep on talking, just like now. Whether it’s a good idea, or not.” He breathed deeply. “And every word I’m saying is puzzling you. Then I’ll get so that I am hurting you. I know that, and I just keep on talking. Because I keep on saying what a heartless bastard you are to me.” His smile was ironic as he watched Spock flinch. “There! See? I’m hurting you now, with my words. And I just keep on talking. And hurting. Because I mean something to you, whether you want to face that fact or not.“ He gave Spock a piercing look. “Understand how it works now?”

“I believe that I am beginning to understand,” Spock said slowly. “We should not bring unnecessary pain to people we know, and we can do that, though, easier than strangers can.”

“Yeah. Because we trust people we know to protect us. And we want to have a good image in the eyes of people we know. But strangers can hurt us with words, also, but it‘s a different kind of hurt.”

“It is their intent to hurt us.”

“That is true. But it’s words from people we love which can really rip us a new one.”

“’Rip us a new one?’”

“Think of your southern climes. And what we don’t need two of. And what would hurt to have a second one created for you, without aid of pain killers.”

“Oh.” Spock nodded in understanding.

“And just like you, I do not wish to be causing you pain. But that’s what happens when you are in a relationship with someone.”

“We are in a relationship?” Spock asked in amazement.

“There’s all kinds of relationships! Yes, damn it, we’re in a relationship. We’re friends! Sometimes, I admit, just barely,” he grumbled to himself. Then he shot up his head, and his eyes were blazing. “But still friends! Don’t take that away from me, too, you cold, heartless hobgoblin!”

“Too?” Spock asked with a frown. “Doctor. What are you talking about? What else have I taken from you? And may I remind you that I, too, have a heart.”

McCoy rolled his eyes upward. “Give me patience.” He looked back at Spock. “It wasn’t something that you have taken from me. It’s something that you have never given.”

“Was it mine to give?”

“Oh, ho, yes!”

“I thought that perhaps that was the trouble.”

“No, the trouble is a certain cold-blooded hobgoblin--” McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose as he brought himself up short. There was no reason why he should be saying any of this. All it was doing was alarm Spock, as the alien’s face was a study in consternation and regret that he didn’t understand McCoy‘s words.

And the other reason McCoy shouldn’t be saying any of this was that he was hurting the hell out of himself.

“I’m sorry, Spock,” McCoy apologized. If he couldn’t be understood, at least he could be kind. “You’ve conditioned yourself too well. Your little campaign to segregate yourself is working very well. I shouldn‘t hold you accountable for something that you can‘t understand.”

“I understand that I am causing you, ah, emotional--” He looked to McCoy to learn if he had that much correct.

McCoy nodded. “Yes. Emotional.”

“--emotional pain,” Spock continued. “I do not wish to do that to you, either. I do understand that you are have my best interests in mind.” Something flashed across his face that was almost pain in itself. “I also understand that you are a good person.”

“Thanks, for that,” McCoy said with some surprise in his voice.

“I have seen you struggle to help me. I did not always understand the reason you struggled, but I understood that you struggled. I am sorry I caused anxiety to you.”

“Some things just happen, that’s all. Things that we don’t understand, no matter how much we try.“

He could tell that Spock was not understanding the fine shadings of what he was saying. Subtleties! How in the hell could the Vulcan understand subtleties when he didn’t understand the obvious things in the world?

But now wasn’t the time to try to get it straightened out in Spock’s mind. McCoy was just too tired.

“I just need to get some sleep tonight. It‘s really crashing down on me." In fact, now that he had admitted his tiredness to himself, he felt a little punchy as though he would start weaving when he walked. He found himself wanting to burst into some old sentimental song that he remembered his father singing. “I’ll See You Home Again, Kathleen” came to mind. Ah, his father had a beautiful tenor voice! So many years ago, before his sickness, before his pain--

“Doctor?“ Spock asked with concern. “Are you unwell? Do you need my help back to your quarters?“

McCoy’s heart leaped with the possibility of getting Spock alone in his quarters. But it would be for the wrong reason. Spock was trying to aid a friend who had suddenly become incapacitated. He probably wouldn’t then wish to be seduced by that same friend who had proven to be untrustworthy. But, oh, McCoy would like to give it a shot with Spock! He’d like a chance at that alien heart and everything else that went with it!

McCoy gave Spock a considering look, as if he was sizing him up, which he was doing. He looked at those lips, those luscious Vulcan lips, and fantasized what it would be like to have those lips pressed against his. What it would be like to open his mouth to those persistent lips and have that raspy, alien tongue wallow his. What it would be like to have that lithe, athletic body pressed up against his and holding him closer and tighter and--

“Doctor?”

McCoy brought himself out of his reverie. 

“You paled. Your eyes grew glassy and staring. I feared that you were passing out. What happened to you?”

McCoy passed a hand over his weary face. He sure as hell couldn‘t admit any of that fantasy to the Vulcan! 

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“But something is bothering you.”

The guy was honestly worried about him. That was kind of sweet, in an endearing way. McCoy didn‘t want to risk losing that much of their relationship, but at the moment he sure yearned for it to be more, ah, personal, ah, physical. Damn physical.

“May I do anything to help you?”

McCoy pinched his eyes shut and prayed for strength. He clamped his mouth closed so he wouldn’t inform Spock of just how he could help him.

When McCoy reopened his eyes again, Spock was watching him anxiously.

"It’d be real nice to have something to dream about.” McCoy’s smile was ironic and almost bitter. “But that’s not about to happen now… is it?” 

Spock frowned, not comprehending. “I do not understand, Doctor.”

McCoy gave him a thin smile as he awkwardly patted Spock’s chest without paying much attention to where his hand was landing. “I know you don’t, Vulcan. I keep forgetting about that.”

Spock felt that he had somehow disappointed McCoy. “I am sorry, Doctor.”

“I know, Spock.” McCoy absently patted Spock’s chest again, then he paused and stared Spock full in the face. His hand trailed up and gently cupped Spock’s cheek. “I know, my friend,” he said softly. “I know. And that’s a tragedy for both of us.” He patted Spock’s face a little too hard, and Spock blinked. “Sorry,“ he muttered. “I’m getting a little heavy-handed there, but, damn it, man! Sometimes I’d like to beat some sense into you.“

Spock looked alarmed.

“Then I realize that I don’t really want that, either. If you were like that, then you wouldn‘t be unique anymore, would you?“ His eyes were sad as they flicked over Spock’s face. “And I would always want you to stay you. Because that‘s what I fell in--” McCoy caught himself in time. “Just stay the way you are, even if you do frustrate the hell out of me.”

Spock did not know what to say, so he wisely did not say anything. On some level, perhaps it was the human side showing up, after all, he understood that there was no clear answer. And that McCoy understood that. If Spock ever became what McCoy wanted most for him, feeling and expressing emotions, then he wouldn‘t be Spock, anymore.

“Oh, my dear friend.“ McCoy paused and his eyes flicked over Spock‘s face that was earnestly trying to understand. “My dear friend and--“ Then McCoy let his hand fall dramatically. It trailed down Spock’s neck and across his chest before it returned to its proper place at McCoy’s side.

Spock saw McCoy’s tiredness. It was more like defeat.

“Doctor?”

“I‘ll be alright.” McCoy drew himself back and turned away. “You just don’t worry yourself any now.”

“But I do worry.”

“I know you do,” McCoy answered wistfully. “And I thank you for that much.”

But even after McCoy walked around the corner and his footsteps moved away, Spock continued to stare after him.


	2. A Token Of My High Regard

“Captain, I am worried about Dr. McCoy.”

Kirk glanced up from his hot coffee. “I know you are, Spock. That’s what friends do. They worry when they know that their friends are going through some hard times.”

“How do you help him?”

“I listen. I try to understand his viewpoint. Where I can, I make a suggestion. But the main thing is to be there for him when he needs companionship.”

Spock nodded slowly, trying to assimilate the information into a form which he could utilize in his dealings with McCoy.

“That’s what friends do,” Kirk continued. “If we’re lucky, we have special friends in our collection of acquaintances. Bones wants a deeper relationship with you, Spock. He wants you to be not only friends, but special friends. That’s quite a compliment for someone to want your friendship that much.”

“It is difficult for me to understand how Earthlings evaluate such things. Solid objects have intrinsic values. But some things such as emotions and feelings are judged differently, I understand.”

“That’s right. If you have special feelings for someone, then those feelings are priceless.”

“Friendship cannot be compared to, say, diamonds, though,” Spock said with a frown as he tried to understand. “One is tangible; one is not.”

“That’s correct. Friendship and diamonds are both valuable, but for different reasons.”

“I fear that I will never understand all of these concepts, Captain.”

“You’re trying, and that’s the important thing. McCoy and I were raised with feelings. You’re trying to learn about them while, at the time, not letting them take over your life. That’s quite a lot to ask of yourself, Spock.”

“How special should these feelings be between Dr. McCoy and myself?”

“Well, that depends upon the two of you. You might start just by spending more time with him and listening to his viewpoint. Without arguing, or bringing logic into the conversation,” Kirk finished, pointedly.

“Captain, that will be very difficult when his logic is in such need of being corrected.”

“Well, then try to overlook his problems with logic and concentrate on being receptive to his needs. If you listen carefully, you can hear what he wants from you. Has he said anything about something that he would like special from you?”

“Friendship,” Spock stated, happy that he knew the answer to that question.

“Anything else?”

Spock frowned in thought. “Yes. He said that he would like something nice to dream about.”

A smile curved along Jim Kirk’s lips before he could stop himself. “Well, now, Dr. McCoy, I see that’s still on your mind,” he muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me, Captain?”

Kirk stirred himself. Maybe, just for the hell of it, he might help McCoy by giving Spock a little friendly push. “Ah, you know that McCoy is basically a lonely person.”

“No, I did not realize that. He seems to have a lot of friends.”

“But he can be alone in a crowd. Have you ever seen him seem to withdraw within himself?”

“Yes. He is difficult to communicate with at those times.”

“That is correct. He needs to be nurtured more when that happens to him.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Be aware of him. Be concerned. Sometimes he doesn’t take the best care of himself.”

“I do know that to be a fact, Captain. I have seen him sacrifice himself for the good of a patient of his by not eating or resting properly. He seems to forget that he has basic needs himself.”

“Correct. Spoil him a little. Show him that you care. Do something special for him, since he is a good friend. Make him as special as he treats his patients.”

Spock looked up and smiled. “Thank you, Captain.”

Kirk only hoped that he had planted some seeds of consideration that would help both of his friends.

 

“I realize that a lot of your unrest was caused by my inability to relate to you in a way that corresponded to the reaction you wanted,” Spock stated to McCoy days later.

McCoy was impressed. Spock had been doing some thinking. “Well, now, Mr. Spock, I figure that’s more my problem than yours. I shouldn’t expect something that you are incapable of doing.”

“I am sorry that I have disappointed you, Doctor.”

“You can’t create a feeling that isn’t there,” McCoy said with a wistful smile. Jim Kirk had said the same thing to McCoy, and McCoy hoped he covered the angst and irony he was feeling.

But McCoy saw that Spock had heard the bitterness that McCoy couldn’t hide. The Vulcan frowned with concern. “I realize that I have problems relating to Earthlings.”

“Don’t worry about it, Spock. That inability isn’t exclusive to Vulcans. Earthlings experience it, too. If an attraction isn’t there, it isn’t there.”

“Could I endeavor to make amends?”

“How do you propose to do that?” McCoy asked, wondering if he really wanted Spock to respond to him in a positive way. That would really change their relationship. He sensed that Spock might be willing to go where McCoy led him now, and McCoy was suddenly hesitant with that prospect.

“I wish to give you a token of my friendship and good will.”

A kiss?! Surely not!

Spock reached in his pocket.

A lock of his hair?!

Spock held out his closed fist. McCoy held out his opened hand, and Spock dropped something into it.

“A locket?” McCoy asked when he saw the medallion on a golden chain.

“Yes,” Spock answered proudly. “It is a magic locket.” 

McCoy held the locket close to his face and squinted. There was something written on it, or scrawled. McCoy looked closer.

Squiggles.

Chaotic squiggles.

The locket had squiggles on it.

What the hell could it possibly mean?! As he asked the question to himself, McCoy swore that the squiggles moved and formed into what almost looked like questions marks. What the hell?!

“It consists of quite interesting configurations,” Spock noted with satisfaction.

It was obvious that Spock was quite taken by what he believed to be a unique gift. For all that McCoy knew, it was a unique gift. Maybe it meant different things to different people. Whatever, he could not disappoint Spock. He had to show appropriate appreciation.

“Oh, yeah. I can see that. It is magic,” he lied.

“It says something on it. In fact, it says what I really think of you.”

McCoy wondered what squiggles meant. He had to look at the locket through Spock’s eyes and heart.

“Oh, yeah. I see now,” McCoy lied again and took a shot given what he knew about his relationship with Spock. “Friendship. You think of me as a friend.”

Spock beamed. “Will you wear it in friendship?”

McCoy could see Spock’s childish enthusiasm. “Of course.” McCoy fixed the golden chain around his neck and felt the heavy pendant on his chest. “Thank you. I will be proud to wear it.”

Spock beamed again. “Thank you.”

Well, that was half of what McCoy wanted from Spock. He supposed that he should be happy with that much.

 

McCoy squinted at the gold chain around Kirk‘s neck and saw a bump under Kirk’s tunic. “I see that Spock gave you a locket, also.” 

“Yes,” Kirk said proudly as he pulled the pendant out from beneath his tunic. “I‘m quite proud of it because my friendship with Spock means so much to me. Then, too, I‘m proud because Spock thought to find it and give it to me. I never would‘ve thought that Spock could come up with something like this. Not something tangible.”

“Well, I have been prodding him about what his relationships with us Earthlings mean to him.”

Kirk grinned. “So have I. I guess that my little talk on friendship really impressed him. Between us, we‘ll have Spock educated on what being an Earthling is.” He glanced at McCoy. “Sometimes I believe that I‘m a little more, ah, subtle about our lessons, but we both get our point across in our own unique ways.”

“You gotta remember what we‘re working with here, Jim. Sometimes subtly doesn‘t work with Spock.” McCoy reconsidered. “Sometimes, though, his humanity exceeds mine, and I am in awe.”

“I know. That‘s the third reason why I‘m proud of this pendant, because of the thought that went behind it. And it is expressed so well with what is written on the front of my pendant.”

McCoy sat up with interest. Kirk could read his pendant?!

“What’s written on it?” he tried to ask nonchalantly, although he was burning with curiosity.

Kirk held up his pendant so he could read it aloud. “Across the top, it says ‘True Friends.’ Across the bottom is written ‘Forever.’”

“And that in the center?”

Kirk smiled. “L.L.A.P.”

“Live Long And Prosper,” McCoy interpreted, half in awe, half in anger.

“What does yours say?” Kirk asked with interest as he glanced at the chain around McCoy’s neck. He could not see McCoy’s pendant because it, too, was inside his tunic.

McCoy shrugged. “It’s just a bunch of squiggles.”

“Are you sure?” Kirk asked with a frown.

“I ought to know what squiggles are!” McCoy snapped with a harsh glare.

Kirk held up his hands. “Alright! Alright!” he begged with a laugh. “Leave me my fingers!”

“How come yours says something, and mine doesn’t?” McCoy wanted to know.

“Maybe his relationship with you is still developing.”

“I told him that I saw ‘friendship’ written on my locket, and he seemed satisfied.”

“Maybe that’s all he really wants with you, Bones.

“I know,” McCoy agreed in disappointment.

“You know, Bones, if the feeling isn’t there, it isn’t there.”

McCoy nodded at the familiar words. “I know.”

“You know, also, that it’s quite a stretch for him to be willing to be friends with you. You’re opposites in almost all of your viewpoints. Plus, you two, ah, just have never struck the right chord together.”

“I know,” McCoy agreed in misery. “But I don’t have to like it.”

 

Then two harrowing incidents involving landing parties happened almost simultaneously, and Dr. McCoy suffered dire consequences because of both of them.

 

The first away mission wasn’t supposed to have been that dangerous. Kirk left with two squads of men and beamed down to the unknown planet. McCoy’s group was supposed to draw the fire and interest of the natives while Kirk’s group surrounded them. Maybe Kirk didn’t move fast enough, but they were late to relieve McCoy’s group. McCoy didn’t say a whole lot at the time, but he was slightly peeved about having his men and himself endangered unduly.

 

Perhaps they had been drinking a little harder than usual that evening following the incident, but McCoy and Kirk felt like celebrating. Spock, as usual, was in charge of making certain that they made it back to the Enterprise in one piece to sleep it off. The main thing that would come out of it would be slight hangovers and fuzzy heads the next morning, but a hangover hypo and hot showers and hotter coffee would eventually bring them out of it. They might have early evenings that next night because of it, but oftentimes, that next evening would find them partying again.

“We sure showed them this time, Bones!”

“That we did! Brilliant leadership! Brilliant maneuvering! Brilliant tactics!”

“Well,” Kirk said with a crooked grin as he tried to accept the praise gracefully. “The rest of the landing party did have something to do with it. I couldn’t have been everywhere at once.”

“No, but maybe it might’ve been nicer if you’d shown up a little quicker to relieve us at that front point.” Liquor was loosening McCoy’s tongue. “It was touch and go for us for awhile there. I didn‘t know if we were going to make it. I‘m getting a little too old for close shaves like that one today!” 

“It was the job of your squad to hold that point for as long as you could. Besides, we had you covered. The enemy were supposed to think that you were the only Federation people out there.”

“I was beginning to think it, myself!”

“Like I said,” Kirk said, with a slight edge to his voice. “We had you covered.”

“Just saying, too, it was a bit of a squeak.”

“It wasn’t for you to say, either way. You were doing your duty.”

“It was a suicide squad! I didn’t sign up to be cannon fodder, Captain!”

Kirk glared at McCoy. “You had your orders, mister.”

Spock was stunned. He looked quickly from one to the other. A scant moment before, his two friends had been jovial and bullshitting each other. Now there were sparks flying between them, and the sparks weren’t good ones. What had happened?

“Yeah, I suppose I did have my orders,” McCoy mumbled, sounding surprisingly sober. “You saw the larger picture. I didn’t.”

“That’s right. Heavy is the mantle of command that rests on the shoulders of the man in charge. I was worried about you the whole time.”

Spock saw the unguarded look of annoyance that flashed over McCoy’s face. It didn’t take anyone versed in face reading or with a deep knowledge of feelings to realize what McCoy wanted to say. Worry from your comrades a distance away doesn’t help very much when Death is staring at you with evil glee because it knows that it has the upper hand.

“But your diversion worked the way it was supposed to work, Bones. You saved the day.”

“And added to your glory,” McCoy mumbled, still smarting from Kirk‘s callousness. Commanders not knowing the faces or names of the people they send into battle to die is one thing. But Kirk knew him and the other people in McCoy’s squad. Kirk was supposed to be his friend, too. Friends don‘t use their friends for living targets. That doesn’t sit too well with the other guy, and it obviously didn’t with McCoy.

McCoy lifted his drink and saluted Kirk. “All hail Caesar! Or should I say, James T. Kirk!”

“What?!” Kirk asked a little sharply.

“Nothing,” McCoy said with a slapdash look. “What do you say we drop this and do something interesting?” He was hurting and wanted someone else to hurt. Or someone who claimed he couldn’t be hurt by words. “How about getting the Vulcan drunk? He’s a party pooper. He hasn’t had a drink all evening.”

Spock spoke up. Maybe this would be a good time for some diversion that would take the minds of the other two off the day‘s near tragedy. McCoy may not realize Kirk‘s guilt over what had nearly happened, but Spock for some unaccountable reason did. Maybe Spock was developing empathy, or maybe McCoy was hearing only what he wanted to hear. For whatever reason, Spock felt that he needed to speak up to diffuse the darkness hovering over their table.

“May I remind you, Dr. McCoy, that intoxicants have no affect on me?”

“That’s what you say! Jim! Have we ever seen proof of that?! Has Spock ever drunk a barrel of beer in front of us to prove it doesn’t bother him? Outside of giving him loose bowels for a week and adding a few pounds to that skinny frame of his, he should stay sober, if what he says is true.”

“He has the right not to drink if he doesn’t want to,” Kirk said quietly and sounded amazingly sober himself.

“I’m just saying that he needs to prove it!”

“And I’m saying that he has nothing to prove to us, and especially to you!”

The two men glared at each other while other words burned on their lips, words that longed to be said.

There it was, happening again, Spock thought. What was going on between those two?! It wasn’t like them to fight. Generally, it was he and McCoy who couldn’t agree.

“Perhaps it is time for us to get some much needed rest,” Spock put in to fill the sudden quiet. “After all of the excitement today, I feel the need for an early evening. Some meditation would be soothing for me so that I can get into the proper frame of mind for sleep. Otherwise, I might toss for hours.”

“Getting some rest might be a good idea,” Kirk mumbled as he pushed himself away from the table.

“Yeah,” McCoy mumbled. “Morning’s going to come around pretty early.”

The two slightly drunk officers walked away with the Vulcan trailing behind them for herding purposes. Both were either too tired or too angry to wonder why Spock had pleaded tiredness. He required less sleep than either one of them, and he had not been drinking. So why would he end the festivities so early?

 

The second blotched incident involving a landing party occurred shortly after the near-disaster with the natives. It found Dr. McCoy being transported wet and shivering back to the Enterprise after being lost for a time on an alien planet. Wandering about in his search for an elusive quest, McCoy had heedlessly fallen into a lake and had delayed the return of the landing party who had to hunt for him. That delay had angered the transporter operator who decided to punish McCoy by not turning on drying fans on his return trip to the Enterprise. Spock had met McCoy in the transporter room, ready to confront him about his tardiness. But, instead, Spock had draped a towel around him and had become solicitous when he had seen McCoy‘s condition. 

A subtle change came into their relationship at that point as Spock became more aware and protective of McCoy from that time forward.

Kirk had been worried about McCoy‘s absence, also, but he had held back because of the strained relationship between himself and McCoy. Kirk could have run from the bridge to the transporter room just as Spock had done, but Kirk had let Spock deal with McCoy. That was not like Kirk. He saw to his crew first, no matter what was happening between them personally. 

It was almost as if Kirk wasn’t McCoy’s favorite person at the moment, and Kirk knew it and was going to give McCoy some room. But Kirk had no idea what he had done wrong to stir McCoy’s brooding anger. Sometimes, that is much worse than knowing what has been done wrong to a friend.

Spock was simply puzzled by the current situation. The relationship between Kirk and McCoy had always seemed so rock solid to Spock. It was strange to see a reduction in friendship between them.

Kirk and McCoy were bickering? And Spock was the peacemaker? Now what was happening on the Enterprise?


	3. We’re Up To Our Asses With Sick People

“How many more patients are out there, Chapel?” McCoy snapped. He knew he wasn’t being very diplomatic, but he was to the point that he just didn’t care anymore. He was bone-weary, but too tired to sleep. He was past the point of being hungry, but knew that his body was quickly depleting its reserve of strength. Soon, he would need all of his energy simply to fuel his basic bodily requires of breathing and of the beating of his heart. The rest of his body would shut down so he could survive.

Until then, McCoy would keep going as long as possible. He just wanted the constant stream of crewmen to stop showing up in sickbay. But he had a feeling that wasn’t going to be happening anytime soon. When some bug got started on the Enterprise, it could go through the crew like the historic plagues decimated the general population in Western Europe during the Middle Ages on Earth. McCoy hoped he didn’t have a plague on his hands, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

“At least twenty are waiting, Doctor,” Chapel answered as if it was her fault that so many people on the Enterprise had developed a gastrointestinal complaint at the same time. Perhaps it was because McCoy was acting as if she had personally added some alien spore to the ventilation system or had concocted some germ-laden dish in the cafeteria and then had served it with a cheerful smile to unsuspecting crew. She just knew, though, that McCoy had to snap at someone he trusted to bear it good naturedly, so poor Christine felt the brunt of his frustration.

Damn it, what was he doing?! It wasn’t Christine’s fault, he thought. “Sorry,” McCoy mumbled as his hand fluttered down her forearm with more apology.

She pursed her lips, then gave McCoy a weary grin. She was all trooper. “We’re all tired, Doctor. I have the feeling that the least little thing will make me snap something out as if I was in the middle of PMS and the change all at once.”

That made him grin. “You’d make one helluva hormone monster, Christine. Nobody would be safe. You’ve one of the few people I actually fear.”

That made Chapel blush. “Now, you’re teasing me.”

“Maybe.” He winked. “And maybe not. I just don’t want to be on the wrong end of any weapon in your hands if you got really mad.”

The comm interrupted them. “Bridge to McCoy.”

“McCoy here,” McCoy answered promptly, but were a tightening of his lips. He didn’t need command breathing down his neck. He was too damned busy for protocol. What he needed was help and time and relief. And some damn sympathy would be most welcomed, too. He knew that didn’t sound very professional, but he was about to fall apart.

“How’s it going down there, Bones?”

“About as bad as it can get, Captain, since I’m up to my ass in excrement.”

There was a pause as Kirk saw Nyota Uhuru‘s back stiffen as she sat at her radio monitor across from him. It wasn‘t like she didn‘t know how men talked. She worked around men all the time, and sometimes men slipped up with their language. At least, though, men tried to go through the semblance of manners when ladies were present. And there were women serving in capacities all over the Enterprise. Kirk couldn’t overlook this behavior from McCoy. McCoy wasn’t simply slipping up. He could’ve amended what he’d said before he’d said. He just didn’t want to make the extra effort to be decent.

“I think you should clean up your language, Dr. McCoy,” Kirk said sternly.

“I did!”

Kirk glanced up at Spock who barely raised an eyebrow. Everyone else on the bridge had heard the exchange, too. Kirk could see stiffened backs everywhere. This was a serious breach of insubordination and an undermining of Kirk’s command. Kirk would have a justifiable case to bring before a board, and he would have plenty of witnesses. Knowing McCoy, he’d be very willing to admit to his guilt, too. In fact, McCoy would be adamant. Kirk would have to tell the board that McCoy had been physically overworked and under a great deal of stress. He’d feel compelled to defend a man who wasn’t being very respectful to him at the moment.

But now was not the time to address the issue. Kirk knew that a good officer, a senior officer, did not suddenly become insubordinate without good reason. He knew that it was not a challenge to his superiority as an officer, but to his friendship by a friend. The issue was personal.

“We’ll discuss it later, Doctor. Let me know if you need more manpower down there. I know that you must be under a great deal of stress.”

“Some muscle would be most welcomed, Captain,” McCoy answered, chastised. He’d finally remembered that he was talking to his commander.

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Captain.” McCoy did sound grateful. And tired. “Everyone on the staff is wearing out here. We’ll be getting sick next because of exhaustion and exposure.”

“We can’t allow that. You’ll get your help, Doctor.”

“That would be greatly appreciated,” McCoy said with a tired sigh.

“And, Bones,” Kirk said with personal warmth. “Go get some rest yourself.”

McCoy bit his lips to stop hateful words. He’d heard the warmth and concern in Kirk’s voice, but McCoy was tired. He knew he was tired. He was stressed. Anybody would be stressed. But that was no excuse to undermine his commanding officer. Or himself, for that matter. The bottom line in any situation was for self-preservation. Cover thou ass. That was the golden rule one needed in life. Bf he succeeded in putting his neck in a noose, as it well appeared like he was trying to do, he shouldn’t also insist on helping the hangman tighten the rope.

“Thanks, Captain. I’ll pull some fresh people in here, and the manpower you’re sending me should really help out. Chapel and I will go get some sleep, too.” He glanced up and winked at her. “In our own separate quarters, of course. I want the poor girl to get some rest, after all.”

Chapel actually blushed. He was teasing her now and treating her like a kid sister. All was well with them again. And she forgave him his harsh words of a few moments before. He could always make her feel more girly in the rare moments when he paid attention to her on a personal basis. It just took a few kind, teasing words. Sometimes, McCoy forgot that it took so little to mend fences or to smooth out ragged friendships. Oftentimes, he was too set on his agenda, or, more often, too concerned for the good of the sickbay, to take those few extra moments.

“That’ll be the best for the both of you, Bones. Bridge out.” Kirk cut the communication and glanced up at Spock. “I think I’d rather face ten Klingons than what McCoy is doing. That must be awfully dispiriting work. It probably affects him mentally as well as physically.”

“Aptly spoken, Captain. It might be safer to avoid the company of Dr. McCoy for awhile.”

“For more than one reason, Spock,” Kirk muttered. “We don’t want to wind up in sickbay with the same malady.” He rolled his eyes at Spock. “Or at Dr. McCoy’s mercy.”

Spock lifted an eyebrow slightly in agreement.

 

Back in sickbay, McCoy glanced at Chapel with a tired look. Now that rest was imminent, he felt like he was falling asleep on his feet. He was giving into his fatigue, and he knew that Chapel was, also. “You heard the boss on the bridge, Christine. Go get some rest.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Chapel said softly. She closed her eyes and rubbed the back of her neck. “I could use it. And a long, hot shower. And the two hot meals I missed. And I’ve lost count of the hours of sleep I‘ve missed.”

“Me, too. But we’ll take care of it now,” McCoy answered softly.

“Yes, Doctor.”

“We have to take care of ourselves, Christine. Sometimes, we forget that. It won’t help the situation any if we weaken our systems and come down with the shits ourselves.”

Chapel blushed, but it was a nice embarrassment, like something an older brother would say and do.

“Go on with you now, girl,” McCoy murmured. “Take care of yourself, for a change.”

“You, too, Doctor,” Chapel murmured back and trailed the hand of friendship along his arm as she stepped away from him.

McCoy sighed as he watched her leave. What would he do without her?

 

“So, has sickbay calmed down any?” Kirk asked as he shoveled his dinner into his mouth hours later.

“For the moment,” McCoy answered. Rest and food had worked wonders on him. Wrinkles had disappeared, and his face had filled out again. And he figured that he smelled a hundred percent better. Two showers, two hot meals, and plenty of sleep was making him human again.

“Sounds like you had quite a mess down there,” Kirk commented.

“We’re getting people dried up and re-hydrated in their appropriate areas.”

“For the life of me, Bones, your speech has disintegrated into the sewer,” Kirk complained. “Your speech is cluttered with references to bathroom problems. I‘d never noticed that before. Generally, it‘s just littered with cuss words and overstatements, not excrement.”

“That’s what I was dealing with, up to my elbows,” McCoy muttered. “It comes with the territory. We’re not dealing with theory in sickbay. It’s about as practical as you can get, especially the last few days.”

“Well, it’s colliding with my beef stew and root vegetables. And it’s making me think twice about my prune whip for dessert. I wouldn’t want to stir up anything that’s best left resting. You know, I don‘t like to think too much about my food‘s voyage after it leaves my mouth. In particular, I don’t care about its journey through my intestinal system and its eventual elimination. As long as it fills my tummy pleasantly and puts me in a mellow mood, that‘s all that concerns me.”

“I swear, Jim, your digestion is getting daintier. I suppose that comes with age.”

“No, just delicacy.” 

“Sorry to disturb your ‘delicacy,’ Captain.”

“It’s just a matter of good manners. Come on, Bones, I shouldn’t have to be telling a Southern gentleman how to behave.”

“Then, don’t!”

Kirk blinked as if he’d been slapped. “Are you needing some time off, Bones? Some shore leave?”

McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I don’t know. I can’t seem to say the right thing lately.”

“I’d be willing to okay it, you know.”

“Are you going to ask for shore leave for yourself, too?” McCoy asked as he took his hand away from his face. His eyes looked weak and out of focus.

“Well, no, I feel as if I’m not in need of it--”

“And as your doctor, I think that you are!” McCoy snapped.

Kirk looked more puzzled than hurt, but he was at a loss for words at last.

“Perhaps we should all call it an early evening and get some rest, gentlemen,” Spock said in the sudden quiet. Lately, he hadn’t been speaking in conversations between Kirk and McCoy until they needed a referee. That had come more and more frequently, though. It seemed at the moment that they needed a referee, again, and at once.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired again, Spock,” McCoy said in a weary voice. “If you were human, I’d say you had iron deficiency anemia. But in your case, it’d be half of an iron deficiency and half of a copper deficiency, wouldn’t it? Maybe I should prescribe bed rest for you and recommend that every day you eat a sledge hammer head and a peck of shiny pennies.”

Spock looked confused and slightly hurt. He was pretty certain that he had just gotten insulted, but he wasn’t for sure.

But Kirk understood that McCoy had clearly snapped at Spock. “You're being snide, Bones. Don’t take your ire out on Spock.”

“I’ll take it on whomever I wish, thank you!” McCoy snapped back.

“Doctor, perhaps you do not realize how stressed you have been lately,” Spock offered. “Ever since you fell in the alien pool on the away mission and experienced a chill followed by a low grade fever and a slight cold, you have not been up to your usual standard of work performance. As Captain Kirk recommended, an extended rest with no responsibilities might be best for you.”

“Who’s the doctor around here, anyway?!” McCoy barked at Spock. “The last time I checked, I was your doctor, alien! Not the other way around!”

“I am simply trying to be helpful, Doctor. I have watched your deterioration lately. I have concerns about you, and not just about your job performance. You have quite a responsibility as Chief Medical Officer, and any sort of medical problem is going to have an adverse effect on your physical stamina and behavior. It is quite understandable for you to be feeling physical distress. I imagine that it is quite draining physically and frustrating emotionally. I can understand how stressed you have felt after the emergency in sickbay which is in addition to your normal work load, plus not being at top physical efficiency yourself. You have been unduly taxing yourself. You need to be more careful with yourself, Doctor. May I help in any way?”

McCoy turned his eyes on Spock. “I’ll be damned. Now I have seen everything. Now the Vulcan has developed empathy. Hell, feelings! After all this time, you’re trying to buddy up with me?! Why, now?!“

“Well, I, I do not know precisely, Doctor,” Spock struggled to answer. “I was quite concerned when the away team was delayed because they could not find you on the alien planet. While it is true that I was at first annoyed by your absence because it was delaying everyone, I became anxious on a personal level for you. Anything could have happened to you, and I was quite concerned about your welfare. Then you returned wet and chilled. My apprehensions had not been in vain.”

“I suppose that’s why you threw the blanket on me in the transporter room!”

“You were shivering and cold. I tried to help.”

“To show your concern?!”

“Well, yes, I suppose--”

“Because we are such good friends, and all!”

“Well, I--” Spock didn’t know how to answer. He looked at Kirk for help, but McCoy continued before Kirk could intercede.

“Well, I’m not buying it, Vulcan! And even if it was true, it’s moot!“

“But--“

“Too little, too late, Vulcan!”

“I do not understand--”

“He’s baiting you, Spock,” Kirk supplied while studying McCoy. “Don’t fall for it.”

“Now you’re siding with the alien?!” McCoy snapped.

“I’m trying to help my friend from an unjust attack. I’m not siding with anyone.”

“I’ve noticed,” McCoy mumbled.

Kirk pursed his lips as he pushed back his chair. “Spock’s right. We’d better call it a night. I‘m tired myself.” 

“You, too?!” McCoy demanded as he gave Kirk a wild look. “What the hell’s wrong with everybody all of a sudden?! I’m the one up to my ass with sick people in sickbay, and you two get tired! I‘ve heard of empathy, but this is ridiculous!”

Kirk noticed other crew members looking their way in the cafeteria.

“Bones, can you tone it down a decibel so that people aren‘t hearing you all over the ship?”

“Oh, hell, Jim! We’re not on a Sunday school picnic!”

“Maybe not,” Kirk said quietly. “But we should retain some semblance of civilization wherever we are. After all, officers and gentlemen should be role models for the enlisted crew.”

“Well, thank you, Miss Manners! Generally, only Spock talks like a walking rule book!”

“Doctor--”

“Don’t you start in, Vulcan! You aren‘t exactly lily white around here!”

Spock frowned. Whatever did Dr. McCoy mean by that?

“Maybe it is time to call it a night! This party is starting to stink! And after what I‘ve been through in sickbay, I know what stink is!” McCoy declared as he pushed back his own chair.

But Kirk beat McCoy to a dramatic exit, though. He jumped to his feet and hurried away so that he and McCoy wouldn’t have to be walking in the same direction at the same time.

Their table quieted while crew members cast quick, curious glances at McCoy and Spock.

“What are you thinking, Vulcan?!” McCoy snapped.

“The captain is quite upset.”

“And you can’t tell that I am upset, too?!”

“But you are always upset,” Spock answered in the only logical way that he could.

“Of all the--” McCoy muttered and jumped to his feet, also. 

“Doctor?”

McCoy fought to put his frustration into words. “An asteroid should hit you in the head!”

Spock blinked. “Why?”

“You’re right,” McCoy muttered. “It wouldn’t do any good, except to break up a perfectly good asteroid, would it?! There’s no sense in disturbing something that wouldn’t notice.” He stomped away. 

Spock frowned. He did not understand the subtleties of the squabbling between Kirk and McCoy. Had they forgotten that they were friends? They were hurting each other with their little jabs. Surely, they could see that. Spock had always assumed that they could see it when he wasn’t really aware of it sometimes. But if he was aware of it now, then their squabbling must be really apparent. Why did they do it, then? If it hurt for them to squabble, why did they do it? 

Maybe something was in the water.


	4. Disconnected Bones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title inspired by "Dem Dry Bones," a well-known spiritual song composed by James Weldon Johnson (1871–1938) or his brother, J Rosamond Johnson (1873-1954). The lyrics are inspired by Ezekiel 37:1-14.
> 
> Toe bone connected to the foot bone  
> Foot bone connected to the heel bone  
> Heel bone connected to the ankle bone...  
> Now hear the word of the Lord.
> 
> (From Wikipedia article, "Dem Bones")

“Alright, Bones, what’s the problem?!” Kirk demanded as he tore past McCoy into McCoy’s quarters the next day.

“Won’t you come in?” McCoy asked with fake amiability as he stood beside his opened door. “Please. Be seated and feel right at home, Captain Kirk. Think of this place as your home away from home. May I offer you some refreshment?” he asked.

McCoy moved away from the door and glanced at his fuming guest. Kirk seemed to be having trouble with breathing even through his opened mouth, and his eyes were flashing with barely contained emotion. 

“Perhaps some bourbon?" McCoy asked politely. "Or a German beer?” He moved toward his replicator. “A dark lager would be quite tasty about now, don’t you think, after a hard day‘s work?” he asked pleasantly. Then he wiped the smile off his face. “I know I could sure use one,” McCoy finished with a mutter, almost to himself. “Something. Anything. Water, even." He closed his eyes and gave a fake shudder as he stood with his hands behind his back. "Now you know how desperate I am if I'd settle for water when I'm needing something stronger.”

Kirk came back to life with a vengeance, and he threw his hand out for emphasis. “Stop the bullshitting! It’s me! Kirk! Your buddy! Or, at least, you used to be!”

“Why would I try to bullshit the champion bullshitter of all time?” McCoy asked as he glumly turned aside. “You’re in a league by yourself. I‘m a rank amateur.”

“What in the hell do you think that I did to you?! It must be something hellish big to get you in such a snit!”

McCoy whirled. “A snit?! Do you think that’s what this is?! A snit?!”

“For lack of a better term; yes! Seeing as how I don’t know what in the hell I did to you, and all! Narrow it down a mite, mister! Pretend I don‘t know what you‘re talking about, because I sure as hell don‘t!”

“You don’t know?”

“No!”

“You really don’t know?”

“I said I didn’t! Tell me what wasp flew up your ass and is stinging the hell out of you!”

And then, as if the anal-buried wasp had suddenly struck again, McCoy blurted out, “You said something to Spock, didn’t you?!” He bit his lips together. "And don't you dare say that you didn't!" McCoy accused with glaring eyes.

Kirk stopped and frowned. It was clear that he was mystified. “You’ll have to be a little more specific, Bones! I say a lot of things to Spock! He’s a friend of mine, too, you know! And we serve together on the same spaceship! During the same shift! On the bridge of that same spaceship! The same spaceship that has gotten awfully small lately because a certain doctor has decided to act like a spiteful teenager whenever we come across each other--”

“A spiteful teenager?! Do you think that’s what this is?! Spite?!” He turned away, angered. Just that suddenly, he was quelled. “Well, maybe it is. After all, why should my problems affect the mighty James T. Kirk?!”

“Bones, please. Be fair. When haven’t I ever been a friend to you?“

“I know you try, but--“

Kirk actually blanched. “You believe that I’ve done something to jeopardize our friendship?! What?! Have the decency to explain what has you so upset with me, and I‘ll do whatever I can to correct it. I‘m at a loss here, Bones, and I‘m needing your help.“

McCoy fingered a corner of a chair and did not realize that he was touching it. 

“Well?!” Kirk demanded with eyes bulging.

“I figure you ratted me out to Spock.”

Kirk took a couple of deep breaths. “Okay, we’re getting somewhere. What do you think I said to Spock that concerns you, outside of telling you to stop baiting Spock?”

“I’ll narrow it down for you,” McCoy offered as his eyes narrowed, also. “What did you repeat to Spock?”

“What did I repeat to Spock?” Kirk echoed in puzzlement. He looked perplexed. “I repeated something to Spock?”

McCoy was getting a little annoyed. “Did you repeat something to Spock that I had told you? Something that I had told you, in confidence?”

“Something you had told to me in confidence. Something you had told to me in confidence,” Kirk muttered, trying to go through recent conversations he had had with first McCoy and then Spock. But when association with those two men constitute a lot of a person’s waking time, that entails a lot of conversations.

McCoy could see that Kirk wasn’t making much headway through the computer scan he was doing of his own memories.

“I’ll help you more. I told you that lately I had become aware of a certain, ah, attraction that I was feeling for, ah, Spock.” McCoy breathed deeply. “Do you remember that?” He saw Kirk’s face clear in recognition. “Do you remember that when I told you that ,your first reaction was to laugh?”

“Can you blame me?! I thought you were pulling my leg! Here, you’d been needling the guy from almost the first moment you’d ever met him, trying to find a chink in his armor and to prove him wrong about anything that crossed your mind, from his supposed lack of emotions to why and how the sun seems to come up in the morning. I would‘ve understood it if you‘d told me that you were planning on ‘accidentally’ killing the guy and wanted me to restrain you. But, no, you came to me and told me with a perfectly straight face that you’d developed the hots for him. Can you blame me for cracking up?”

“I suppose not. But it wasn’t very flattering. I told you what was going on in my innermost heart. Do you know how long it had taken for me to finally say something to you?”

“Well, I wasn’t the kindest of souls at the time, I‘ll admit. I can understand that now. I could at the time, too, but you gotta realize how that information came out of left field and hit me right between the eyes. I thought you were gonna say that a certain crew member had the clap and needed to be quietly shipped away for treatment. Or that you wanted a new kind of medication added to the pharmacy, or that you wanted sickbay to be painted in a robin’s egg blue, or almost anything other than what you came up with. You gotta realize that you can’t come right out and say something like that without preparing someone for it first. That was a complete about-face from your previous feeling about the man. To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I was floored!”

“Okay, I realize my error there. And I apologize for not leading into it better. I was a little at a loss as to how to approach you, so I just plunged into what I was going to say. It sounds like I still didn‘t do it right.”

“It just came as one helluva surprise, that’s all.” Kirk thought. “Surprise doesn’t cover it, actually. Shock, really. Utter and devastating--”

McCoy frowned. “Come on, now! It couldn’t have been that much of a stretch to consider something intimate between him and me.”

“Bones. We’re talking you and Spock here. Being around you two was like attending a hornet convention. It got so I had to turn you out at times, like you were so much white noise in the background. I tried to stay out of the middle of your ‘discussions’ as much as possible. It was better for my physical and mental health.”

McCoy looked insulted. “It couldn’t have been that bad!”

“You weren’t the one trying to stay neutral.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that. But you were the one who encouraged that controversy between us. You wanted our input about logical and emotional sides of certain situations in which you found yourself so you could make a moral decision.”

“Your input, yes! Not an intergalactic war! It turned into bickering and finally snipping at each other!”

McCoy breathed deeply. “We’re getting off the subject. Now we’re getting into your problems.”

“I figure that it’s pertinent.”

“It’s always about you. You are a little conceited, Jim.”

Tears bit at Kirk’s eyelids. “How long have you waited to say that?”

“How long have you been conceited?”

Kirk sucked in his breath. “I didn’t realize that you hated me.”

McCoy’s face fell. “Oh, hell, no! I’m sorry, Jim. I don’t hate you. You know how I really feel about you. If anything, I hate myself.”

“Bones. Buddy,” Kirk said as he touched McCoy’s arm. “What is going on?”

McCoy snaked a shaky hand over his forehead. “Sometimes, I don’t really know.”

“I could tell that there was something terribly wrong with you, and I hoped you would come and talk to me. Finally, it just got too big, so here I am. I’m sorry if you think I had any part of what’s causing you problems now.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that. But I gotta know. Did you say anything to Spock about how I was feeling towards him?”

“Not that I recall,” Kirk said as he pulled his hand away from McCoy’s arm.

“Maybe you gave him a certain innuendo, a broad hint, a, well, you know, a clue. A clue to my new way of thinking about him.”

Kirk gave him an exasperated look. “Bones. We’re talking about Spock here. When has he ever understood innuendo or anything subtle about human emotion that you can recall?”

McCoy frowned. “Well, that is a good point. You would have to make something awfully blatant for it to penetrate all of the safeguards that he‘s got around himself. You‘d be sure to remember something like that. And if you would‘ve forgotten, I‘m certain that his reaction would‘ve registered with you. He would still be assailing you with questions about it ever since. He‘s as curious as a cat. No wonder there‘s the idea out there that Vulcans are descended from cats.”

“Can you tell me the whole story now? Start at the beginning.”

“Well, I became aware of him in little ways.”

“Maybe not that far back,” Kirk corrected.

“I want you to understand,” McCoy insisted with just a little anger in his voice.

“And I know that you relish talking about it. That’s one reason why I think you’re serious about this romance thing with him.”

“You never believed me?!”

“Oh, I believed you. It just didn’t make any sense, that‘s all.”

McCoy crossed his arms and looked annoyed. “Well, thank you!”

“Bones. Look at the situation from my angle. What if I’d come to you and said that I thought that I was in love with Kahn Noonien Singh? What would you say to that confession?”

McCoy uncrossed his arms. “Well, actually, that makes more sense than me and Spock, now that I think about it. You and Kahn are a lot alike, but not Spock and me.”

“See? Now you can understand why I was finding it so difficult to believe about something developing between you two. But I did not repeat it to Spock.”

McCoy frowned. “Then this added attention that I’m getting from him is coming from him? It‘s his idea?”

Kirk frowned back in disbelief. “This isn’t good news?”

McCoy pulled himself out of his reverie. “What?”

“You’re acting like this isn’t good news to you that Spock apparently has feelings for you, too. Isn‘t that what you want, if you like him, too?”

“Hmm,” McCoy hummed as he turned aside, deep in thought.

“What’s going on? You just heard that a person you like likes you back. That should be cause to be jumping up and down, swinging from the chandeliers, singing any maudlin love song that comes to mind, the dumber the better. You’re acting like I just told you that a beloved pet just died.”

“What? Oh? Hmm.”

“Bones! You can’t leave me dangling like this! What is going on?!”

“You know my track record with romance. Divorce. Failed relationships.”

“Of course. Cupid has kind of beaten you up.”

“I think that he aims his arrows at me on purpose, just to see me flinch.”

“It’s gotta be somebody else besides Cupid who‘s messing with you. Cupid wants people to fall in love.”

“Falling in love, sure! Any idiot can do that! Staying in love, now that’s something different.”

“That’s probably handled by some different god.”

“A sadistic one.”

“Kinda bitter there, aren’t you, pally?”

“Love’s never worked you over the way it has me.”

“Now, there you’re mistaken. No one’s immune to love gone wrong, me included. I don’t have enough breath to tell you about all of the scars on my heart. Everyone’s been through it. It’s one of the great universals in life, like pain and death. That’s why love songs sell and fan fiction gets read. Love hurts, yet everyone lines up to experience it. Because it‘s going to be different for them. Cupid‘s gonna smile on them. They‘re gonna beat the odds.” Kirk grimaced. “And every bastard out there believes that crap with every beat of their trusting hearts.”

“Especially Mrs. McCoy’s little boy from Georgia,” McCoy replied bitterly.

“So, you’ve got this bad track record. What else?”

“I don’t want to get hurt like that again.”

“Nobody does.”

“Yet, I don’t want to be left out of the love thing. I don‘t want to miss the magic, the dancing in the street, the whole rosy power of being in love.”

“Nobody else does, either.”

“And I want to feel normal. I want to feel like I’m in love like everyone else.”

“Makes sense.”

“And if the other person doesn’t love me back, that’s the fault of that person, not mine. Right? The other person doesn‘t realize the great deal that she, or he, is passing up.” He gave Kirk a sly look. “Right?”

Kirk didn‘t quite understand how everything in McCoy‘s reasoning had done a slight curve from the ordinary, but McCoy’s thinking still halfway made sense. “Well, I suppose,” Kirk agreed, though reluctantly.

“I did my part. I’m loving someone, even if it is in vain.”

“Because the heartless recipient, the jerk, won’t love you back.”

“Right.” McCoy breathed deeply. “And if the jerk doesn’t love me back, there’s no danger of getting my heart broken when the jerk dumps me. Because the jerk can’t dump me, because the jerk never loved me in the first place. See the logic of this?”

“Wait a minute! Wait a minute! There’s a flaw here. Unrequited love can be a bitch!”

“But it’s controlled by me. That‘s the beauty of it.”

“But there still has to be a flaw here.”

“There is. When the jerk decides to love me back.”

“Oh. And now, ah, Spock is showing interest. And you don‘t know if this is a good thing, because, suddenly, you are out of your comfort zone. Because, suddenly, the other guy has stripped away your ivory tower defense and wants you to face his interest.” He stared levelly at McCoy. “On your own, unprotected.”

“Yeah,” McCoy agreed with a big huff of air.

“When did this interest start?”

“About the time I came back from falling in that alien pool on the away mission.”

“I remember that. Spock was up here on the bridge, as usual. Then the landing party began sending back reports that they couldn’t find you. Spock began to get very agitated. He kept saying what an expense and delay it was for the landing party to have to search for you. I said that it was the same thing that either one of us would have done if we were with the landing party. We would’ve searched for our buddy. No one is left behind. I don’t know why he suddenly forgot that principle. You covered for your buddy. You made sure that he made it back.”

“I suppose that’s part of that emotionalism that Spock finds as a weakness in us humans.”

“Perhaps. Anyway, he was listing all sort of reasons why you were messing up the mission with your absence when we got word that you had been found, safe but wet, and was being beamed up. Spock took out for the transporter room before I knew what had happened.”

“I was half frozen by the time I materialized in the transporter room. Apparently, the transporter operator hadn’t turned on the air drier. He had taken it on himself to punish me for not following orders. Some of his buddies were on the landing party, and the delay in getting back to the Enterprise caused them to miss their plans for later on.”

Kirk had a wise look on his face. “I understand that transporter operator is now pushing a broom through the hallways of the Enterprise.”

McCoy grinned. “Yeah. When Scotty and Spock got through with him, he was happy that he wasn’t banished to some penal colony on an ice asteroid for guard duty.”

“It’s a good thing that he wasn’t serving time in that penal colony! He wasn’t allowed to hand out punishments! What if you’d had a perfectly good excuse for causing the delay on the away mission?”

“I thought that I did at the time,” McCoy admitted sheepishly. “Turns out, it was just a straw in the wind. I was at fault, too. I should‘ve informed the others in the landing party what I was doing. I was following a will-o‘-the-wisp, though, the gold at the end of the rainbow. But if I‘d been correct, a new medication might‘ve been discovered. I was being too emotional and not scientific, at all. So, I paid for it. And caused worry and delay not only to my crewmates on the away mission, but also to my superiors back on the ship. I can understand why I angered the transporter operator.”

“But you had a theory to be tested. And you acted on that hunch, at the spur of a moment. Officers are allowed to do that, you know. They don‘t have to explain their reasons to lower personnel.”

“Just so I didn’t have to explain myself to my superior.”

“It was in your report. It made sense at the time.” Kirk waved it aside. “Anyway, you beamed back to the transporter room. Then what happened?”

“Spock walked in the door a moment after I got back, all wet and shivering. My teeth were starting to chatter. I could see the disgruntled look on his face, and that was a surprise. Because he generally doesn’t even admitting to emotions, let alone displaying them the way he was doing.”

“Like I said, he got himself pretty stirred up while you were missing. I suppose that had to eventually come out.”

“And I believe that it would have erupted in a tirade to have ended all those centuries of Vulcans trying to control his emotions. Then he saw how cold and wet and miserable I was, and he changed his mind just like that. I’ve never seen such a change on anyone’s face, especially his. He grabbed a blanket and made clucking sounds about trying to keep me from catching cold. I was utterly grateful. That blanket and those hands of solicitude felt wonderful. And I don’t know if it was because I was happy for the blanket or thankful that Spock didn’t cuss me out. I suppose I really did deserve that dressing down,” McCoy said sheepishly. “But I’m really glad that Spock changed his mind about doing it, especially in the presence of that smug transporter operator.”

“Well, it would’ve been the last thing he would’ve been smug about. That former transporter operator probably has time now to think about his rash revenge during his long hours in his new career in the maintenance department.”

McCoy grinned. “The one who laughs last, laughs the loudest.”

“Something to that effect,” Kirk said with a fond grin. “Now, suppose you just try to be friends with Spock and maybe broach the subject of your new attitude toward him. Hint around a little.”

McCoy tried to imagine Spock responding to a hint. It could happen, McCoy supposed. What the hell! He’d give it a shot!

“Thanks, Jim," McCoy said, beaming. "You've helped me a lot.”


	5. When The Best Isn’t Good Enough

Just how much humiliation can one person force upon himself? How many times can he offer his best and have his feelings slammed back into his face?

As many times as it takes, McCoy had always told himself. But he was about at his limit of how much abuse he could tolerate. But Jim Kirk had given him hope. He would try once more.

And once more, because, really, what else could he do?

 

“Spock! And how are you today?!” McCoy asked jovially as he rushed up and slapped McCoy on the upper arm.

Spock gave him a startled look. Had McCoy been drinking? Spock couldn‘t smell alcohol, but perhaps McCoy had consumed too much caffeine. Anyway, a direct question required an answer. Spock knew the rules of etiquette.

“As opposed to what?” Spock asked.

“Ha! Ha! Ever the joker, aren’t you?”

Spock looked confused. “Did I say something that amused you, Doctor?”

“Well, surely if I was to wait long enough, surely something funny will come out of your mouth eventually.”

The good doctor had been affected by some outside stimulus, but what? “I fail to see how length of time would increase the possibility of my becoming funny.”

“Ha! Ha! You are in rare form today, aren’t you?” McCoy demanded as he slapped Spock’s arm again. 

Spock moved away from the offending hand that was beginning to cause his arm to sting. McCoy must not be realizing how hard that he was slapping. “I am sorry, Doctor, but you appear to be the one in rare form today. Are you certain that you have not been sniffing nitrous oxide?”

“Laughing gas? Me?! Ha! Ha! I knew you’d say something funny yet, and there it is.”

“Where?”

“Ha! Ha! Oh, Spock! Sometimes you slay me, did you know that?!” 

McCoy made a swing with his open hand to slap Spock’s arm a third time in the same spot, but Spock turned away from it and the blow only cuffed his arm slightly.

That caused McCoy to look up and take in their location. Passing crewmen in the hallway gave the two officers sideways glances. News of the officers’ current ‘discussion’ and speculation about its particulars would soon be all over the Enterprise with a rapidity that would approach the speed of light. Officers and their lives were always delightful fodder for any rumor mill.

“Let’s go into my quarters,” McCoy directed as he grabbed Spock’s arm and shoved him into his room. “It’s getting a little crowded out here in the hallway.”

“But--” Spock protested, but found himself shoved inside McCoy’s quarters before he knew what was happening to him. The door sliding shut and sealing them away from the curious eyes of other crewmembers seemed ominous to Spock‘s ears. He had not been this isolated with McCoy in a long time.

“Sit down. Sit down, Spock,” McCoy directed. “Make yourself comfortable.” 

But Spock remained standing, uncertain of what to do. He was not well versed in the social arts and was trying to determine if his situation was still in the realm of a social setting, or if it had taken on the definition of being strong-armed or even kidnapped. McCoy had left little room for argument or objection.

McCoy stopped at his replicator. “Want something to drink?” he asked pleasantly. “Carrot juice or sparkling water, perhaps?“ He gave the perplexed looking Vulcan a critical look, and his face hardened. “Or do you just want some marbles to suck on to make your own spit? You know, something that would match that rock of granite demeanor of yours.”

That question seemed to bring Spock out of his trance. He blinked and shook his head. “Pardon, Doctor? What did you say?”

McCoy waved him away. “Never mind. You probably do not require additional moisture. Probably, all that you just have to do is to think about liquid refreshment, and you find your thirst quenched, don’t you?”

“You are endowing me with abilities I do not possess. I fail to understand what you are talking about, Doctor.”

McCoy seemed to deflate. “I know you don‘t. I was just trying to make pleasant conversation, that’s all.” He gave Spock a sharp look. “You can be damn aggravating to try to talk to, did you know that?” McCoy asked.

“I have surmised that fact on occasion.” Spock straightened. “Did you wish to speak to me in private?”

McCoy frowned as if seeing Spock for the first time. He stood there staring, unable to speak. When had he invited a damn robot into his quarters? And why?

“If that is all, Dr. McCoy, I will be on my way.” Spock said and allowed the condescension that he was feeling to creep into his voice. He waited as if to prove that he had the greater powers of self-possession, which at that moment, he did. When Spock received no answer, he turned away with a self-satisfied look on his face. Everything about him, from the almost smirk on his face to the way he held himself, said that he clearly was the superior person in the room. He stepped toward the door which opened for him. “Excuse me, please.” But his haughty voice did not match his humble words. They did not even sound gracious, just demeaning.

Not until the door slid closed did McCoy blink and realize that Spock was gone. How dare he! McCoy didn’t think twice; he gave chase.

“Hey!” he hollered down the hallway at Spock. “I wasn’t through with you yet!”

The impertinence of what McCoy had said stopped Spock in his tracks, and he looked back in barely contained amusement. The Earthling had the gall to holler at him?! The audacity to detain him?!

“Excuse me?” Spock inquired with all of the snippy attitude that he could command. He might not know to call it a snippy attitude, but that was indeed what it was.

McCoy came thundering down the hallway after him, and all that Spock could do was stand there and dumbly watch him approaching. Spock was stunned that McCoy had not been cowed by his attitude. Instead, McCoy’s aggressive behavior had him rooted to the spot.

McCoy stood and glared at Spock. Now that he had the Vulcan stopped before him, he did not know how to proceed. So he just started to blunder his way along. Logic hadn’t worked, or a call for compassion. Maybe old-fashioned anger would be the key.

“Just what do you think you are?!” McCoy thundered.

“One half Vulcan and one half--”

“That is not what I meant!”

“An officer on the U.S.S. Enterprise--”

“Not that, either!”

“You will have to define your terms--”

“Gladly! I didn’t ask WHO you thought you were! I asked WHAT you thought you were!”

“Oh.” Spock considered. McCoy did have a point. Then Spock knew that he had beaten McCoy at his game, whatever it was.

Spock gave McCoy a haughty look and knew he was going to enjoy answering. “I am a creature of the universe.”

For some reason, that deflated McCoy. Spock had reduced himself to a basic element of being. The only thing smaller would be pure light.

But Spock had also taken out any part of divinity in regard to his creation. He had deprived himself of humanity and simply made himself into a creature aware of its existence, and little else. And in doing so, he had placed himself not only above, but beyond, frail, imperfect McCoy. He was superior, and he knew it. 

He gave McCoy a smug look as if to say that he had won and knew that he had won. Perhaps now the Earthling would leave him alone.

There it was again, McCoy thought. That bored, barely tolerant look on Spock’s face. How McCoy wanted to wipe that smugness off that insipid face! How he wanted to shake the Vulcan until he got some sort of reaction out of him! How he wanted to grab Spock by his shoulders and kiss him so hard and so fast that Spock would be stunned! Anything to wipe that maddening look off his face! Nobody could be that calm! Nobody! And he’d prove it! 

McCoy grabbed Spock’s shoulders with hands that weren‘t gentle and jerked Spock off balance. The Vulcan would have fallen, but he grabbed McCoy‘s forearms and steadied himself. Then he stared at McCoy without comprehending what was going on.

“Doctor?”

The apparent victory and having a hold of Spock seemed to have gentled McCoy somewhat. But it also empowered him. That, and the look of startled wonder that seemed to hold Spock paralyzed. At last, McCoy had some power over the Vulcan!

If Spock would have assumed charge of the situation and ordered McCoy away, the illusion would have been shattered. McCoy would have meekly moved away and avoided Spock as much as he could have from then on. Spock would have won that silent battle between them, and McCoy with his unrequited feelings of love would have slunk away for good. 

But Spock didn’t react in a logical manner, so neither did McCoy. Instead, McCoy continued down this new relationship path between them. For better or worse, there was a new paradigm between them.

In fact, McCoy was as struck with his uncharacteristic behavior as Spock was. His right hand slid gently up Spock’s shoulder, then traveled around to the back of Spock’s neck when it met no resistance.

“What are you doing, Doctor?” Spock stood mesmerized. He could have broken McCoy’s hold at any moment. He was the stronger man. But Spock was spellbound by the look of wonder on McCoy’s face that had suddenly replaced his fury.

Instead of answering, McCoy used the hand on the back of Spock’s neck to tug Spock toward himself. At the same time McCoy closed his eyes and leaned forward to meet Spock’s lips in a gentle kiss.

That was something that Spock had not considered or expected. He was caught off-guard and responded from some deep well inside him. He went on instinct for the first time in his life and gave into the kiss.

McCoy felt Spock’s hands come up under his arms, grab his waist, and pull McCoy toward him. Oh, yeah, good idea, McCoy thought, as their whole front sections collided together. I like that real fine, too, Vulcan. Let me feel all that you have to offer. Especially that, he thought with a smirk as he felt a swelling bulge on his groin. He was pretty certain that Spock could feel his own growing bump.

McCoy broke the kiss and braced his forehead against Spock’s. He was slightly out of breath and fought to regain it as his left thumb gently stroked Spock’s check.

“I think I have just proven that you are capable of feeling, Vulcan,” he gasped out.

Spock stiffened. “It that why you kissed me? To prove a point?”

“Well, hell, yes!” McCoy answered as he pulled his head back. “Among other things.”

Spock pushed out of his arms. “I am happy that you had a successful experiment, Doctor, with the results that you were striving to prove.” He turned away.

“Hey, wait a minute! You can’t just walk away!”

“I am finished being a laboratory rat.”

“You felt something, too! I know that you did!”

Spock’s eyes snapped. “Disgust. If you must know, I felt disgust.”

“That was when you broke away! You felt something different during the kiss!”

“I will not discuss it further. How could it mean anything?”

"You don't feel. How could you?! Hell, you don't even react to normal feelings! And that‘s something I sure as hell can‘t understand!” His eyes narrowed. “Nothing gets to you, does it!? Not even a genuine, warm, decent feeling! Don‘t you know when something is real?!” McCoy spat out with flashing eyes. “You don’t understand what you can do to someone else, do you?! How could you?! You’re nothing but a damn machine!”

One thing did not set well with Spock. “What did you mean by saying that I do not understand what I do to someone else?”

"Just that!" McCoy snapped.

"Explain yourself," Spock demanded, looking very dangerous with those snapping, dark eyes.

“Oh, you wouldn’t understand!” McCoy answered as he turned away.

But Spock persisted. “I want to know what you meant.”

“Oh, go to hell,” McCoy muttered and stalked away. The moment he said those last words, he wished them back. Because those words, he really didn’t mean. But the others, he did.

“Doctor!”

McCoy stopped and looked back up the hallway. Spock was hurrying after him and did not look happy.

“What the hell do you want?!” McCoy demanded.

“You did not let me finish!” Spock answered as he swiftly approached, his mouth one grim line.

McCoy turned away. “You were finished, as far as I was concerned. I don‘t want to hear anything more from you!” He took a step to move on.

But Spock was suddenly behind him and spun McCoy around. “You will listen!”

McCoy’s mouth dropped open and he looked stunned. Spock had manhandled him! Then the surprise cleared to be replaced by anger. “Well, I don’t choose to listen!” He tried to move away, but Spock forced him to step backwards, and his back slammed hard against the wall. McCoy nearly saw stars. “What the hell?! What do you think you‘re doing?!”

“You will listen!”

“I will not!”

When McCoy tried to move again, Spock shoved him harder against the wall and pushed his body against McCoy‘s. McCoy gasped, not so much from being shoved, but from the shock of having so much body pressed up against his. Their bumps were much harder and more painful.

“What the hell?! Have you gone crazy, Vulcan?!”

Spock grabbed McCoy’s chin in one fist and held him fast. “What did you mean by saying that I do not know what I do to someone else?”

“Just that, you damn hobgoblin! Just that!”

McCoy tried to break away, but Spock held him securely.

“Damn it, let me loose!” McCoy was so wrought up, he was about to bawl. “Like I said, you don’t understand. How can you, when you don’t feel?”

“You think that I do not know what it means to feel?”

“That is what I said!” McCoy said with false bravado. The Vulcan’s hesitancy was making him braver. “You don’t know what feeling is!”

Spock’s eyes narrowed with a flicker of pain. “If that is what you believe of me, I must correct your concept.“

“Yeah, sure, and how in the hell do you propose to demonstrate that fact to me?!“

“By showing you that I can feel, and that you have hurt my feelings.“

“I doubt any of what you’re saying!“

“And I said that I will prove it. I will prove that I know the difference. What I gave you before had emotion behind it, even if you did not recognize it as such. Then here is a kiss without feeling so you will know the difference.” He leaned forward and gently rested his lips against McCoy’s.

Hot and cold washed over McCoy, but the gentle pressure against his mouth neither increased or decreased. It was just there, mocking him with its indifference. After a moment, McCoy’s lips began to tremble. Tears smarted at his eyelids and began to run down his cheeks. “Please, don’t,” he whispered against Spock‘s lips as he managed to find enough room to form words. But the Vulcan kept his mouth on McCoy’s, and his hand firmly held McCoy’s chin.

McCoy’s hands fluttered helplessly around them. He longed to form a proper kiss or open his mouth in search of Spock’s tongue, but he was held in that godless kiss without feeling. And it was tearing his heart out. He felt a core of ice forming inside him and knew that he was dying from the inside out.

Spock broke the kiss at last and stepped back. He saw McCoy shudder.

“Damn you,” McCoy muttered. “You are an unfeeling bastard.”

“I simply helped you to prove your point, Doctor, that I am unfeeling.”

“There could be another reason.”

“I was not trying to prove another reason--”

“It’s me, isn’t it?”

“I did not say--” Spock protested, feeling that he was losing control of the situation.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m unlovable.”

“I do not wish to leave you with that assumption--”

“Oh, I’ve known it for a long time. Well, maybe I am unlovable. I sure as hell can’t seem to hang onto anyone for any length of time. There‘s gotta be a helluva good reason for that happening, and it‘s me!”

“I do not wish for you to think that--”

“How could I not?! It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“Doctor, I do not know what to say.”

“I know you don’t, Spock. Just now, you got slapped with a lot of passion that you didn’t know how to handle. You tried to discourage me. That was a logical thing to do. Let me down gently. That was very humane of you to do.”

“I did have a growing interest, Doctor. Ever since you fell into that alien pool.”

“I know. And I should have been patient. But I was so darn happy when I figured it out, that I made a grab for you and for happiness. I should’ve realized that you couldn’t respond that readily. I should‘ve let it build slower.” McCoy smirked. “We’ve one helluva pair, alright. I’ve been a loser in the game of love so many times that I’ve lost count, and you, well, you don’t know what to do with something when it’s slapped up against you.” He smirked louder. “Literally.” He moved away.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. Time. I need time.” He rubbed his forehead. “You know, I wish there was some way that we could keep on working together, but not so intimately. I don’t want to split up the gang, and I know that Jim sure as hell doesn’t want to lose his top aides.” He smiled softly. “And you. I know that somewhere deep inside you there’s something that doesn’t want to lose track of me, either.” He turned aside. “You’re just too damn tongue tied to spit it out.”

“Doctor, my tongue is not tied--”

“You had to say that, didn’t you? You’ve done that for so long, that it had to come out. But you paused there, didn’t you? You understood the damn idiom, then tried to cover it up by acting like you didn't. At long last.” He shrugged. “When it isn’t important, anymore.”

“Doctor, I do not mean to hurt you.”

“I know, I know,” McCoy muttered as he absently patted Spock’s chest. “I didn’t mean to attack you, either. In our own ways, we hurt each other and didn’t mean it.” He looked sadly into Spock’s face. “Yes, what has caused the worst pain wasn’t intended. It’s just a notch up from killing with kindness. I suppose it’s killing with neglect.” He gave Spock’s face one more pat, then pulled his hand down over Spock’s chest in a final caress.

McCoy walked away slowly, yet Spock felt that Earthling hand sliding down his chest for a long time after McCoy left him.


	6. You’re Gonna Miss Me--I Hope

“Daddy! How sweet of you to call!” Joanna gushed, thrilled that her father had thought to call all the way from space.

“Hello, darlin,’” McCoy said softly as the warmth of her near-presence washed over him. How he wished that he could give her a big hug! She would feel so precious to him right now. “How are you doing, baby?”

“Oh, Daddy, you won’t guess what happened in Home Room this morning! I would‘ve been so embarrassed if it had happened to me!” she related, in all the drama of a young teenager which she nearly was.

How well he remembered the trials and tribulations of those years. How he wished he could reassure her that problems would ease when she reached twenty and maturity was supposed to arrive. All he could really reassure her of, though, was that they might change.

He gave her an indulgent smile. “What happened, darlin?’”

“Well, you won’t believe this, but--” she started as she rolled her eyes dramatically. Wasn’t dramatic eyes one reason why McCoy had fallen in love with her mother? He saw so many of Jocelyn’s features in Joanna. He didn’t know if that was a good thing, or bad. He just knew that it was so soothing to her hear.

“What did the homeroom teacher say about that?” he encouraged.

“Well--” Another dramatic eye roll, and Joanna was off and talking again.

He let her chatter on about her preteen life with its many joys and equally sharp sorrows. Her eyes rolled dramatically as she blathered on, and he let her. He just wanted to listen to her voice. He didn’t care what she talked about. He really wasn’t listening to what she was saying. He just wanted to watch her saying it. 

How lucky he was to have so much! Not everyone had a child growing up somewhere. It would be better if they were living together so he could be a witness on a daily basis to her experiencing life and learning how to cope with it and with other people. He didn’t know if he would’ve been a good choice to guide her through her teen years, but, then, what parent was? 

Maybe the value of the teen years was that was the time to learn that their parents didn’t necessarily know everything nor could they fix everything. Maybe that the time for young people to see that it was alright to fail, just as long as someone was trying. If that was the case, then Joanna would certainly have a good example in her father.

But at least he had an investment in the future. He could look forward to grandchildren, in time. And his child was a girl. Daughters seemed always more conscientious about looking after aging parents. McCoy remembered the adage: ‘A daughter’s a daughter all of her life, but a son’s a son ‘til he takes a wife.’ And Joanna thought enough of her father to be concerned about him in his old age. She would include him in her future life. Thank goodness for that!

For Joanna was a good child. McCoy didn’t know how she had managed to be turning out alright with Jocelyn as a mother and him being gone so much. But Joanna was a treasure, and he was trying to make certain that he always treasured her.

McCoy looked at her image as she chattered in her animated way and ached to take Joanna into his arms and just hold her. He wanted her energy and love to seep into his longing body and appease him on a level that he realized was starved for attention and healing. All of that youth with its enthusiasm and optimism for the future could heal him. It might startle her to see her father so melancholy, but he so needed physical contact with someone he loved. He, who should be guiding and reassuring his daughter, needed guiding and reassurance now.

McCoy wanted to be just held by another living body. It didn’t have to be an embrace because of sexual reasons, although that would most certainly be nice. He just wanted to have all of that tactile awareness and comfort of another body. He wanted to relax and let someone else be strong for a change. He wanted to melt into someone else. But the prospects weren’t good for him achieving that goal here on the Enterprise.

Maybe he should get completely away from Starfleet and do something different. Joanna’s youth was appealing to him so much that he began to consider working around young people. Maybe a post as the medical person on the campus of some university back in the States would be a wise choice for him. All of those young people would be stimulating, and he wouldn’t be bored with the continually changing agenda of campus life. Something was always happening, and he could become part of the college scene. 

Of course, people his age would be around, also, and he might meet a new love interest with the right woman, or man. The gender didn’t matter, not after McCoy realized that he could have romantic feelings for Spock. He just wanted a change, and fast.

“Daddy? What’s wrong? You’re so quiet.”

Joanna had finally run down. Maybe she had even asked him a question and had gotten no answer. Whatever, she was waiting for a response now.

McCoy shook himself. “What? Oh, sorry, darlin.’ I guess I did let my mind wander.”

“Was there a special reason why you called me, Daddy?”

He could tell that she was slightly miffed that he had not been paying attention to her breathless recital. Rattling on can be wonderful for the person rattling, until the realization strikes that they have been playing the part of a fool. No one likes to be the butt of a joke, and it‘s worse when the person realizes it. 

McCoy didn’t want his daughter to become cautious around him. After all, he had called her so she could distract him and make him feel normal, again.

He decided to play it straight with Joanna. Maybe she was old enough now to understand his feelings of anxiety and doubt.

“I’m having some personal problems in my life, sweetie, and I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice. I thought that it might give me some peace. It has.”

“Oh, Daddy, I’m so happy that you thought to call me! That makes me feel so grown up and so special!”

“You have always been so very special to me, little girl, and you always will be.”

“Daddy! I’m not a little girl anymore! I’m almost a teenager!”

He felt a tired, wistful smile float across his lips. “You’ll always be my sweet little pumpkin, sweetheart.”

“I wouldn’t want to be anything less, Daddy.”

McCoy squeezed his eyes shut against stinging tears. Damn! She had inherited his emotional heart! That would be a good thing for her. And also a bad thing. She was in for a lot of heartache in her life.

 

Talking to Joanna had stabilized him, but it was just an interlude. It still didn’t solve McCoy’s problems with an unresponsive Spock. He saw only one way out.

 

“I’m leaving, Jim,” McCoy announced as he entered Jim Kirk’s quarters.

“Great!” Kirk cheered with a slap-dash look on his face as he looked up from his book. “Have a swell time! Be sure to write! Where are you headed?! I might want to go along if it has a lot of women there!”

“I mean it, Jim,” McCoy said with exhaustion as he fell into a chair. “I’m outa here, as fast as I can go.”

Kirk frowned, suddenly serious. He laid aside his book. “What’s wrong, Bones?”

“The Vulcan. He worked me over pretty good this time.”

Kirk craned his neck as he looked back and forth. “One thing for sure, he was damn careful about it. I don’t see a mark on you.”

“You gotta look inside. Around the area of my heart. You‘re missing all of the stab wounds.”

“Oh.”

McCoy huffed. “Yeah.“ 

“What happened?“

McCoy’s smile was bitter. “I made a case for myself.”

“And?”

McCoy shrugged.

“He didn’t take it very well, I gather.”

“He’s a damn prig!” McCoy declared, bolting out of his chair.

“Bones,” Kirk said gently. “You gotta remember. He doesn’t know any better.”

McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “And I should know better.” He glanced at Kirk. “Right?” He breathed deeply. “I took biology AND psychology. Species and cultures shouldn’t mix.”

“Bones, it’s not his blood, and you know it.”

“I know. His folks made a go of it, and they’re both full-blooded members of their species. They’ve made it this far, and haven’t killed each other yet. While their son--” He frowned. “I don’t know what species he is.”

“Half of each is Earthling--”

“Forget blood! This isn’t something he inherited through his blood! He’s just a sterling, one hundred percent a--”

“Bones, you don’t mean that.”

“You don’t know what I was gonna say!”

“Whatever it was, you didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I know that I should be looking at the situation through his eyes. Being around us Earthlings with our emotions constantly boiling over has to be daunting. Spock probably thinks that Earthlings are in a constant state of PMS, the men as well as the women. Or pregnant women. Now, that would be an experience! Hormones on hyper drive from pregnancy plus the emotions of erratic Earthlings. The guy selling tissues would make a killing around us Earthlings!”

“Bones, I know I’m helping you by letting you vent, but I’m not too certain how we got from you and Spock to the guy selling tissues to overemotional pregnant women.”

McCoy laughed the way that Kirk intended him to. “Thanks, Jim. I suppose I must’ve sounded like one of those hysterical pregnant women when I came in the door.”

“That’s what I’m here for. I’m your friend, as well as your commander.”

“Thanks, Jim. I appreciate your concern and your friendship.”

“Any time. All you have to do is ask, okay?“

“Okay.“

“Now, sit down. And calm down, okay? Maybe we can see a way through this dilemma.”

McCoy obeyed with a sheepish smile. “I just don’t know what to do, anymore.”

“You gotta make allowances for Spock, Bones. He didn’t have the same kind of childhoods that we did.”

“You mean, normal?” McCoy asked sarcastically.

“Well, they seemed normal to us back on Earth, but we don’t know what the norm was on Vulcan.”

“I know how one kid’s childhood was.” McCoy frowned. “Poor bastard! It’s a wonder he’s sane!”

“That’s what I mean. He wasn’t like us. There were no birthday parties for him with other children, no fun weekends with Grandpa and Grandma when they took him to the county fair and carnival, no ornery uncles to teach him colorful words, no lazy summer days watching ants scurrying through the grass, no rainy days going through old books from your parents‘ childhoods.” 

“From what I’ve seen of Vulcan, there is no grass. There’s probably no ants, either. Not unless they are three feet tall and very aggressive. And carnivore,” he added after a moment. McCoy glanced at Kirk. “Have you ever noticed that most things native to Vulcan are pissed off about something and think that you caused all of their problems? I’ve never seen one of them smile or even act like something is amusing or lighthearted. Morticians and gravediggers must be the planet’s comedians. They must sit around and try to see who can pull the longest face.”

“Bones, none of that is fair.”

“But am I wrong? Tell me I’m wrong, and I’ll moon the Vulcan High Council the next chance I get.” 

Kirk sighed and shrugged. Then he grinned.

“What?”

“Just picturing you mooning the Vulcan High Council. Wonder how many heart attacks that you’d cause?”

“Not enough.”

“Bones! You’re supposed to be a humanitarian!”

“I’ll go even further than that! Hell, I‘ll fuck any one of them that you point out.”

“Are you serious?! Taking on any one I point out?!”

“At least I might make somebody blink, but I doubt it.”

“You might cause attacks of apoplexy. Or you might take out the whole Vulcan High Council with heart failure.”

“Well, I really don’t think that I’d cause that much damage that way. We’re talking Vulcans, remember? Not too much phases them. First you’d have to prove that they had hearts. And I don’t mean the mechanical organ under the arm that keeps them alive. And while we’re at it, jump those creatures about being humanitarians. They like to discuss something like that as an idea, but they don’t like to practice it. Too messy, I suppose. No, they need someone to moon them to snap them out of their non-existences.”

Kirk grinned again. “Well, the sight of your bare rump shoved in their faces would certainly stir them up, that‘s for sure. It might even bring them out of theoretical discussions to something practical. I wonder what course of action that your little exhibit would cause?”

“Well, with my luck, they’d probably use my asshole for target practice.”

Kirk began sputtering and came coughing up out of his chair. “Next time, warn me that you’re going to be using an image like that!”

“Yeah, what else could I be besides a target? With a bunch of their lances protruding from my asshole, I should look like a well-tailed turkey strutting around.”

Kirk collapsed in his chair and pounded on the arm. “Enough! Enough images!”

“Well, you can see my problem.”

Kirk dabbed tears from his eyelashes. “Yeah, I can. You never give yourself easy goals, do you?“ Kirk grew thoughtful. “Give Spock more time, Bones. He might get to like the idea of the two of you together. I expect he would be awfully protective of his mate.”

“At this rate, I’ll never know.”

“Just, give it a little longer. Okay?”

McCoy toyed with the arm of his chair. “Jim, I, ah.” McCoy frowned. “I embarrassed myself pretty badly with him.”

“Now, if it would’ve worked, you and he would be all cozy somewhere right now.” He gave McCoy a suggestive look. “Right?”

“Yeah,” McCoy admitted. “Reception makes all the difference in the world.” He frowned again. “I gambled and lost. Big time.”

“Just for now, Bones. Just for now.”

“For always, Jim,” McCoy said firmly. “I don’t want to go through that again. Not for awhile. I doubt if I can ever face him again.” He thought it over. “For awhile.”

Kirk was hearing that McCoy was down, but not out. McCoy wanted to make noises like he was finished making attempts of a romantic relationship with the Vulcan. But the whole time, he was leaving the idea open and out there. Damn it, McCoy was ever hopeful, no matter what. He’d grovel if he had to. Hell, he already had. And dang it, he probably would again. But, right now, he was smarting from his last encounter with Spock. Kirk understood that McCoy didn’t really want to leave the Enterprise, but he felt like he was being driven to do it.

“Just go back to your quarters, Bones,” Kirk said gently. “Give it some time. You don’t want to give up your career and your other friends. You can’t give up your life, Bones. You need something to hang onto. You can’t let this thing with Spock make an outcast out of you. You owe yourself that much, my friend.”

After a moment, McCoy gave Kirk a thin smile. “Ever the voice of reason. I guess that’s why I came to you.”

“You needed support. And you’ll always find it here. Now, get out of here so I can get back to my book.”

McCoy grinned. “Aye, aye, sir!”

But even after McCoy left, Kirk didn’t pick his book back up immediately. He knew that this thing between Spock and McCoy was far from being over. They were involved, so that meant that he was involved.

Kirk frowned.

That meant that James T. Kirk was not only involved, but square in the middle.

 

Leonard McCoy strolled with purpose back toward his quarters. Jim always knew the right thing to say. McCoy would play it the way that Kirk had suggested. Hell, McCoy could be the bigger guy. He could serve beside the coldhearted bastard from Vulcan if need be. He could be just as big a prick as Spock could be. Just as blind as to what was really going on. Spock would be willing to take lessons in coldness from McCoy before McCoy was finished with him. Get ready, Vulcan, for the pissing contest of your life!

That resolve lasted only as long as McCoy didn’t come face to face with Spock. And suddenly that happened when McCoy least suspected it. He rounded a corner, and Spock was ten feet ahead of him and walking toward him.

McCoy broke stride for just a split second, then he continued on his path. The Vulcan didn’t break stride, nor did his eyelids waver in acknowledgement of McCoy’s presence, nor did his lips tighten in disgust or in greeting.

Those lips! McCoy’s eyes fell on those lips, and a hunger seared through him. Those lips had been on his. That mouth had opened to him. The tongue inside Spock’s mouth had met his in ecstasy, and a thousand stars had exploded behind McCoy’s eyelids. And the mouth and the tongue had moved rhythmically against his. And that body had moved rhythmically against his, and had, and had…. 

McCoy’s fingers touched his own lips, and he felt himself break out in a sweat just as he met Spock. McCoy sucked his breath in sharply as Spock walked past him. He knew that his wistful eyes had swung up to Spock’s face at the last moment, displaying all of the longing he was trying to hide.

McCoy stopped and grabbed the wall of the hallway. Spock had looked right through him. Nothing on Spock had even registered that he knew that McCoy was in the vicinity. McCoy was nothing to him.

McCoy knew he had to leave. He couldn’t be indifferent to Spock, not the way he was feeling. He thought he could, but now he realized that he couldn’t. Spock surely saw how open his emotions had been. Yet, the Vulcan had kept on walking. So much for pity or empathy.

McCoy was as good as dead to him. McCoy had had too much treatment like that in his lifetime. He couldn’t take it, anymore.

McCoy hurried toward his quarters. He couldn’t be around someone who was so indifferent to him. McCoy had offered his body, his love, his allegiance, his friendship, and none of it had been good enough. Fine, he could live with that decision, since he couldn’t change it. But he most certainly couldn’t live around the person who was so callous to him. So he wouldn’t.

He didn’t care where he went, just so he wasn’t here any longer. He didn’t care about any of it any longer: the career, the friends, the life. He was out of here.

He really didn’t have any other choice.


	7. The Universe Is A Big Place, When Someone Is Missing

“What do you mean, you can’t find him?!” Kirk demanded. 

“Just that, Captain. I cannot locate him,” Spock repeated. “He was not in sickbay. Nurse Chapel has not seen him for several hours. And he did not answer a comm to his quarters.”

“Everybody’s gotta be somewhere! That applies to Dr. McCoy, also! Even he has to obey the laws of physics, or science, or logic, or something!”

Captain Kirk was upset, and it was Spock‘s responsibility to soothe him. “I realize that, Captain. Do you wish for me to search for him?”

“I thought that assumption should have been fairly obvious, Mr. Spock!” Kirk closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Wait. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound so harsh. I’m upset.”

“I realize that, Captain.”

“McCoy was in here, upset himself, saying all sorts of wild things. I should have listened closer. Been more sympathetic to him. Made him stay with me.” Kirk frowned. “I don’t understand it. I thought I’d gotten him through it. I thought that everything was okay again. I thought that he sounded pretty chipper by the time he left. I wonder what happened to change him?”

Spock could have answered Kirk’s question. He was pretty certain that Kirk and McCoy had last met right before Spock had snubbed McCoy in the hallway. Not only snubbed him, but had burned him and rather severely. Spock was suddenly aware that he had been the one to send McCoy on his way. Guilt washed over Spock, but he was not about to confess to Kirk. Not confessing doubled the guilt that he was feeling.

No wonder Spock tried to eliminate emotions from his life. He didn’t need all of the angst he was suddenly feeling, but he knew that he certainly deserved it.

“Well, do a thorough search of the ship, Spock. Be discreet. Don’t raise a general alarm. We don’t want to jeopardize his career. Just say that you are looking for Dr. McCoy to have, I don’t know. Lunch! You had a lunch date, and he seems to be late. That‘s it. He‘s late for a lunch date.”

“Yes, Captain. I will go immediately.”

 

But, even after Spock left, Jim Kirk sat and tried to imagine just where in the universe that Leonard McCoy had managed to get himself to. Kirk hoped that McCoy was still aboard the Enterprise, but he doubted it.

 

“I cannot locate Dr. McCoy on the Enterprise, Captain,” Spock reported later.

“Hmm. You checked his quarters?”

“Certainly,” Spock answered as he looked straight ahead. “That is what I did first.”

“And?”

“At first, I thought that nothing was missing. His clean uniforms were in his closet, and a set was in the hamper ready to be collected for laundry day.”

“Come now, Mr. Spock. Some articles of Dr. McCoy’s clothing had to be missing. I doubt that he was strolling around the Enterprise naked. Can you imagine what that would have looked like? Bones with his bones showing, and everything else? There should be goose flesh all over his body. I expect there isn‘t much meat on him. But what there is, should be prime. The person who gets him would be very lucky. Very lucky, indeed.”

Jim Kirk got the reaction he was seeking. Spock noticeably tensed and acted befuddled. In fact, a deep shade of green flashed across his face. Interesting, Kirk thought. So Spock had thought about McCoy naked. And the vision that Kirk had just painted had done something to Spock’s breathing and had caused the Vulcan to blush. Wouldn’t Bones love to know those tidbits?

“That would probably extend beyond my imaginative powers, Captain.”

Careful there, Vulcan, you’re coming very close to telling a lie. Don’t lose that ‘probably,’ or else you’ll be treading on very dangerous ground, indeed, my friend.

“Hmm. I see. Tell me, Mr. Spock, could you determine if anything personal in Dr. McCoy’s quarters was missing?”

“Yes, Captain,” Spock answered a little uncomfortably, as if he had been caught going through McCoy‘s private things. “His toiletries were gone, and his underwear drawer was empty.”

“Oh, his skivvies, eh?”

There was that dark green blush again. “Yes, Captain.”

Kirk wanted to bedevil Spock more about McCoy’s underwear but decided to show some mercy, instead. It was bad enough that Kirk had commissioned Spock on the errand of checking McCoy’s whereabouts. Kirk shouldn’t poke too big a stick at Spock. Just the fact that McCoy couldn’t be found should be eating at Spock sufficiently.

“So, you don’t know what he was wearing.”

“On the contrary, Captain. When last seen, he was wearing black levis, a black t-shirt, and his black bomber jacket.”

“You know what he was wearing?!” Kirk demanded, his bantering mood forgotten. “How?!”

Spock glanced at Kirk. “The transporter operator told me.”

“The transporter operator?! Then McCoy has left the Enterprise?!”

Spock swung back to attention. “It appears that way, Captain.”

Kirk pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. “Then, he’s absent without leave? Is that what you are saying, Mr. Spock?”

“It would appear to be that way, Captain.”

Kirk released his nose. “What was McCoy’s destination? Did the transporter operator say, since he seems to be our only connection to Dr. McCoy at the present moment?”

“Dr. McCoy appears to have beamed down to the surface of Narsarya B, Captain.”

Kirk breathed deeply in relief. “Well, at least we know where he is. That narrows his location down from the whole universe to one planet.”

“As long as he stays on the planet and does not fly out on any departing star ship, his whereabouts should be fairly easy to ascertain.”

“I doubt if space travel is his goal. I expect he’ll be content to stay put on Narsarya B. If I know him, he doesn’t have a clue as to where he should go, just so he is away from the Enterprise.”

“I believe that your assessment would be correct, Captain.”

“Okay, until further notice, Dr. McCoy has left on an extended furlough. The circumstances came up quite suddenly, and he had to leave without much notice or preparation. Or goodbyes. Got it?” he asked with an edge to his voice. “Nobody, and I mean nobody, from Scotty on down, will know any differently. Got it?” he repeated.

“Of course, Captain.”

Was there just a little hint of triumph and humor in the Vulcan’s voice? Was he pleased that McCoy had left?

“We will cover for our friend, understand?” The edge in Kirk’s voice was harder.

“Certainly, Captain.”

The Vulcan had managed to take the pleasure out of his voice so he could answer Kirk with a flat voice. Damn, the bastard was good! Kirk sure wanted to keep Spock always as a friend. He’d hate to have him as an enemy.

“Did the transportation operator comment on whether McCoy said anything to him before he was beamed away?”

“Yes, Captain. Dr. McCoy advised the transportation operator to always remember to run the drying fans while beaming someone up. He said that one operator had neglected that task and had subsequently suffered a demotion in rank and work skills. He said that the demotion had been lowered to the extent that the former operator was now sweeping a broom on the lowest and darkest and coldest levels of the Enterprise.”

“Hmm. Sage advice. But hardly an adequate farewell to his friends and crew mates.”

“Perhaps it seemed important at the time for him, Captain. He may have been trying to alleviate some of the guilt he possibly experienced by being instrumental in the demotion of the other transporter operator.”

“Perhaps. We may never know what is in the heart and mind of another man.” 

“That is true, Captain.”

Jim Kirk breathed deeply. “Carry on, Mr. Spock. We’ve still got a ship to fly and a schedule to keep.”

“That we do, Captain.”

Kirk did not see Spock purse his lips slightly. He did not know of Spock’s alarm that they were leaving McCoy behind.

Of course, on their return through the area a few weeks later, they would just happen to go into orbit around Narsarya B so that it could be determined that McCoy was still safely on the surface of that planet. After assuring themselves of McCoy’s whereabouts, they could then continue on to their next assignment. 

Spock would not say anything, but would sigh in relief to himself and would continue on with his duties.

That was the official Spock. But then there was Spock, the man, and he had been disturbed when he had left Kirk’s quarters after it was determined that Dr. McCoy was, indeed and truly, gone.

 

Spock entered his quarters and waited until the door whooshed shut behind him.

“Lights, ten percent,” he ordered crisply.

The lights dimmed as ordered. Only then, in that shadowy twilight, did Spock release his shoulders, breathe deeply, and try to relax. It didn’t help. The tightness in his abdomen was still there.

As if from some unseen signal, Spock crossed his ankles, gracefully lowered himself onto the floor, and pulled himself into the lotus position with each foot resting on top of the other thigh. He was as graceful as a ballerina dancer in the fluid motion. If someone had said that to him, he would have taken it as a great compliment. The litheness and mobility of his slender body were things he was almost vain about. But not quite. Vanity was, after all, associated with pride, a deadly sin.

He tried to put himself into a meditative trance without aid of his robes or mat. They were, after all, trappings. He was above all of that. He could do without. He was strong.

But he could not get himself into a trance. He longed for the blankness of nothingness. But he knew he could not achieve it. He did not deserve peace. He had not earned peace. For he was at fault.

Spock’s eyes shot open. 

He was at fault. And the sooner he faced that fact, the better off he would be.

He had driven McCoy away. And Kirk blamed him. And Kirk was right to blame him.

It was never supposed to have come to this, not to McCoy’s leaving. The man brought a lot of his troubles onto himself. But, if given a choice, Spock knew that the majority of the Earthlings on board the Enterprise would side with McCoy. Not only side with him, but hold him in esteem. For he was fallible like them. The other crew members understood fallibility. It was Spock’s cold treatment of McCoy that they would not understand or tolerate. And it wasn’t just because the Earthlings would stick together because they were Earthlings. And it wasn’t just because McCoy had been right.

It was more because Spock had been wrong.

But he had points in his favor. Good, logical points that people probably would not consider because McCoy screamed louder. The wheel that squeals loudest gets greased. Now that idiom, Spock understood.

Spock had always been respectful of McCoy, even after McCoy began to needle him. Spock supposed that was McCoy’s attempt to get his attention. But Spock had not paid attention until McCoy was lost from the landing party on the alien planet. Kirk and McCoy had been angry at each other for some reason, so Kirk wasn’t as personally interested in McCoy as he should have been. Sure, one of Kirk’s crew was missing. That would interest any captain. But McCoy was supposed to Kirk’s personal friend, but Kirk was acting like it. So it was up to Spock to be concerned about McCoy.

When Spock rushed down to the transporter room, he had all sorts of issues boiling through his mind about McCoy’s absence. McCoy had worried people on the ship and in the landing party and had caused a delay. But as soon as Spock saw McCoy standing there all wet and shivering, his heart went out to the poor man. Spock forgot the reprimands and grabbed a blanket to drape over McCoy. Then he had led him away to sickbay for adequate treatment, and McCoy had allowed it. From that time onward, he had recognized a new awareness of McCoy in himself.

So many things that McCoy had said had suddenly made sense. McCoy had wanted something nice to dream about. Now Spock realized that he could have provided what McCoy needed, something physical, something intimate, something loving.

They had been building up to a new level in their relationship, a physical intimacy, but McCoy had gotten in too much of a hurry. Still, Spock had been keeping up with McCoy, even through that first wonderful kiss, and then McCoy had said something to burst the illusion.

“I think I have just proven that you are capable of feeling.”

Spock thought that McCoy had kissed him because McCoy liked him, not to prove a point. That hurt Spock’s feelings. Then McCoy made it worse by accusing Spock of something.

“You don’t understand what you can do to someone else.”

He thought that he was a very caring person. Sometimes, though, he did not always know how to show his caring. And then to have someone accuse him of being callous seemed not only unfair, but untrue. And that had angered Spock. He did not like to lose control of his emotions, so he was as angry about that as what McCoy had said. That was why he had come up with that degrading kiss, but he had to make McCoy understand that McCoy was being unfair.

More than once, though, during that punishing kiss did Spock almost soften his lips, pull his arms around the abused McCoy, and beg forgiveness with his voice, his lips, and his body. He was not heartless, nor was he immune to the feelings that McCoy had stirred with the first kiss. Spock longed to shelter McCoy in his arms and become a sanctuary so that McCoy could hide away from all of his demons. But then Spock would be giving in, and McCoy would not learn. So Spock had turned his heart and his lips to stone.

If he had known the price he would pay later in personal regret, he would have stopped the brutal kiss and become compassionate. He would have gone down on his knees and begged McCoy for forgiveness. For Spock discovered that he had sacrificed not only McCoy’s heart, but his own. And he grieved for both of them.

But Spock did not let on. Especially not when he had met McCoy in the hallway later. Even though he saw the yearning on McCoy‘s face, he had kept going.

And once again, he had broken both of their hearts.

But he had not thought that McCoy would leave over any of that. Not really.

But at least McCoy’s whereabouts were known. They would not lose track of McCoy.

Spock would make certain of that.

 

It wasn’t so bad down here on Narsarya B, McCoy decided. The work that he did at the medical clinic provided him with something worthwhile to do with his days and a little bit of money to use for his few expenses. He slept in a small room at the back of the clinic where there was an area for the few possessions he had brought with him, including several changes of clothes and underclothing. Most of his daytime hours were spent in hospital uniforms. When he went out at night, which was generally to the local bar on the waterfront, he wore the outfit that had seen him off the Enterprise: tight black levis, black short sleeve tee shirt, and his darling black leather jacket. He felt special and unapproachable in that outfit. Therefore, it fit his mood perfectly. He wasn’t looking to make friends here. He was just existing until he needed to figure out what to do next with his life.

In the meanwhile, the small room at the back of the clinic was the only home he needed. He had been a gypsy during so much of his adult life, that he did not mind what most other people might call a non-existence. After he had set the pictures of Joanna and of his parents on the dresser and put his clothing away, he was moved in. A television and a computer kept him entertained for the short times that he was in his room and awake. Otherwise, he tried to be out of his room or asleep. This was not home to him. It was simply a place to sleep and to keep his things. Home was where loved ones waited for you. Ergo, this was not home.

He found that there was plenty to do, thank goodness, if he was willing to apply himself. A nearby church had a soup kitchen, and he helped serve meals to hungry people there several nights a week. He was always happy to sit among hungry people and share the plain, sturdy food alongside them. Otherwise, he ate at a nearby cafeteria or at the economical restaurant located on the next block. That was a nice way of saying that it was a greasy spoon in the finest tradition of any found on Earth. The Narsaryans probably had created it and this whole area so that Earthlings could feel at home under modest circumstances. Anyway, it answered McCoy’s purposes of providing a hot meal several times a day and also some fellowship with regular customers, one of which he quickly became. The food was plentiful, though, and nourishing. 

He found himself rediscovering meat and relishing it. He had gotten into the vegetarian diet on the Enterprise partly because of Spock. He certainly didn’t have to follow that regime, anymore, so he didn‘t. He even noticed that he added a few pounds with the fat rich and cheaper cuts of meat. But he enjoyed the rich variety of frugal dishes which had sprung up over the centuries out of necessity. Most people could afford only cheaper cuts, so to add variety they had created dishes that used more economical meats. Generally, that type of meat needed slower, moister methods of preparations. Once again, McCoy enjoyed beef stew and braised briskets, chicken and noodles and stuffed pork chops, and the ultimate plate brimming with broiled steak and grilled mushrooms. It was great to be a carnivore again. Jim Kirk would love it here.

And with that, McCoy would feel a stab of homesickness.

 

Kirk hadn’t ordered it and McCoy didn’t know it, but Spock had taken it upon himself to keep track of McCoy somewhat. Spock felt responsible for McCoy’s leaving. He knew he really shouldn’t. McCoy was a grown man, answerable to nobody, except to his employer, his family, and whatever godhead he believed in. But why McCoy left might be Spock’s fault. McCoy had been relatively happy with his life on the Enterprise. The only reason he had left was because of his relationship, or lack thereof, with Spock. Ergo, Spock was responsible. Kirk hadn’t come out and said it, yet he had most certainly implied Spock’s responsibility, also. 

For whatever reason, though, Spock secretly knew of McCoy’s whereabouts. If Kirk had asked, Spock would have told him. But Kirk didn’t ask, so Spock did not volunteer the information. If Kirk had known, though, that Spock knew and didn’t say, then Kirk might have been very peeved indeed with Spock. Jim Kirk might have even agreed with McCoy’s viewpoint of Spock being an aggravating alien.

But Spock did share the information with other crew members when they asked. Maybe he wanted a firsthand report on McCoy’s welfare.

 

“And here he is, lads, in the Blue Goose!”

McCoy looked up from his whiskey. He knew that voice. Montgomery Scott, Scotty, chief engineer on the Enterprise, was fast bearing down on him with a big grin on his face. Scotty was closely being followed by Hikaru Sulu and Pavel Chekov. McCoy was both elated to see his old shipmates and alarmed, because they would have a thousand questions to ask about his sudden departure. But he mercifully did not have too long to think about it, though, because they were immediately with McCoy, pumping his hand and slapping his back as he was theirs.

“Scotty! How the hell?!” McCoy had a big grin on his face. “Chekov! Sulu! Great seeing you guys! Sit down! Sit down! Want a cold one?!”

“We’re fine, lad! Fine! And yourself? Do you need another?”

“They know to keep them coming my way, and I’m about due!”

“Aye, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Dr. McCoy!” Scotty roared after he sat down with his beer in his hand. He stared openly at McCoy. “You’re a little peaked, though. Aren’t you getting out in the sunshine enough? Or is this as far as you get?”

“You know me, Scotty. I’m a night owl. I don’t get started good until sometime after supper.”

“Don’t we all?! But we don’t get paid for that, so it’s up and doing when the captain says that it’s the new day. Sometimes that can come mighty early, especially with a late night just behind you!”

McCoy grinned, missing the routine of his old life on the Enterprise. “How is everything on the old tub, anyway?”

“Same old, same old,” Scotty answered. “Organized chaos.”

McCoy nodded and grinned.

“We got some new ensigns in the computer department,” Chekov related. “Some of them are just out of the Academy.”

McCoy grinned. “Fresh meat,“ he murmured. “Has Spock eaten them alive yet, or has he allowed them to live, but not knowing when the axe will fall?”

“Oh, he is getting along just fine with the new people,” Chekov answered.

“Spock?! Getting along fine with someone?! And they’re greenhorns?! They must be awfully tolerant.”

“No, not them, sir. Mr. Spock is,” Chekov answered.

McCoy frowned. “Well, now, that is news. Has he been ill lately?”

“No, he hasn’t, lad,” Scotty told him. “It’s more like he’s subdued. Isn’t that what you would say, Hikaru? Subdued?”

“Yes. Definitely,” Sulu answered. “He is almost melancholy.”

“Hmm,” McCoy muttered. “What accounts for that, do you think?”

“I don’t know, lad, but it’s strange. Strange, indeed.”

“I always figured that his Vulcan upbringing would keep him from getting mired down in emotions,” Sulu added. “But that doesn‘t seem to be helping him any, now.”

“Strange, indeed,” McCoy muttered. Some part of him had leaped with joy with the hopes that Spock’s melancholy was being caused by McCoy’s absence. If it was, then all of McCoy’s suffering from his self banishment would be worthwhile. McCoy was just egotistical enough to hope that he was the root of Spock’s problem. McCoy was suffering. It would be justice if Spock was suffering, also.

But McCoy didn’t want to gloat too much. He didn’t want his visiting crewmates to guess the truth.

“So, how’s the captain doing? Has he found anybody new to romance?”

“Oh, aye,” Scotty answered with a laugh. “One of those new ensigns has really put him in a tailspin, for a change.”

“Jim Kirk?!” McCoy asked with a hoot of laughter. “Well, it’s about time! Does the girl really have her claws in him good?”

“So good that you can see her fingernail polish on the other side of his arms,” Scotty answered with a merry laugh. “This might be the girl for him.”

“I don’t know if I agree with you, Scotty,” Sulu put in. “The young lady in question is very pretty, but she seems shallow. I believe that Captain Kirk will tire of her before long.”

“He’ll be fascinated until he can manage to get her into bed,” McCoy predicted. “Then he’ll be finished with her, if a physical relationship is all that is between them.”

“Captain Kirk has never cared that much for women’s brain power, Doctor,” Scotty said.

“But he’ll eventually want to talk to her,” McCoy maintained. “If she’s nothing but an empty-headed sexpot, then he’ll be finished with her.”

“Aye, and he’ll want her to have integrity, also. He likes that in a person, I know.”

“We all like that in a relationship, Scotty,” McCoy said wistfully.

“Aye, that we do, lad, that we do.”

 

The three men stayed with McCoy for a long time, and he regretted seeing them go. Damn it, he had to admit that he missed his life aboard the Enterprise. He amazed himself by even realizing that he wanted to go home.

But how in the hell could he do that?! He had burned a lot of bridges behind him. How much he had given up for a relationship with Spock, and nothing had come of it. He'd like another chance at his former life, even if a relationship with Spock didn't come with it. He didn’t know if he could ever go back to the Enterprise, though.

He didn’t know if the Enterprise would take him back.


	8. With Those Pointed Ears, You Sure Don’t Look Country Western

Spock entered the “Blue Goose” bar on Narsara B and paused to let his eyes become adjusted to the darkened interior. Country music was softly playing somewhere. Honky tonk, he believed it was called. Spock listened for a moment to the words being wailed so plaintively. Some man was lamenting his lost love and for losing his last chance for a happy life. Spock did not know if he quite followed the philosophy advocated in these types of songs, but they certainly had a following. 

A lot of people certainly must believe that their problems in life were caused by some force beyond themselves. Problems actually stemmed from people themselves and their lack of the proper tools to face life. That was why something that was a daunting problem to one person didn’t even bother someone else. Spock realized that people knew that on a philosophical level. But when it came time to face problems, people were still as hamstrung as they ever had been.

Spock slowly made a circle of the patrons who were already quietly drinking their blues away despite the fact that it was barely evening outside. Drinking seemed to be a solitary exercise unless it was a group of people trying to make themselves feel worthy and successful by impressing the next guy. He supposed that type of exercise boosted the ego of the drinkers. It, like country music, certainly seemed to have its following, also.

He spotted McCoy hunched over the bar with a drink of some sort in his hands. Spock felt his heart give a lurch and took a moment to get his emotions back under control. It had been awhile since he had seen McCoy, and he needed that moment. He thought of Kirk's questions about how McCoy would look without clothing. Why did he need to think of the images those questions had raised? He nearly had to grab the back of a chair to steady himself.

How could one person cause so much frustration in someone else and still have the lure to make that other person hunt for him? If Spock could answer that question, perhaps he wouldn’t even have to be here. But here he was. Spock took a deep, steadying breath.

Here he was, as if he could be anywhere else.

McCoy didn’t look at him when Spock slid into the seat next to him at the bar. “Doctor,” he ventured after a moment of McCoy not acknowledging him. He was fully aware that McCoy knew that he was there. A slight tensing of McCoy's muscles had told him that much.

"Don’t hang out your detective’s shingle just yet,“ McCoy muttered. “I saw you the second you walked in the door, you know. You‘re about as obvious as a Vulcan in a bunch of Starfleet Earthlings." He sneered as his own attempt at humor.

“I am only half obvious, Doctor, seeing as I am only half Earthling.“

McCoy snorted. “Still brassy as hell, aren’t you? That sure takes me back.“

“Still honest as, well, you know, too.“

“And still not willing to say a cuss word, are you?” McCoy scowled at what he was going to say next, but said it anyway. “You wouldn’t say ‘shit’ if you had a mouthful, would you?“

“Doctor, I never did understand that rather dubious colloquialism. Would it not be difficult to speech if one’s mouth was already filled with extraneous and odorous materials? Would you care to elaborate for clarity‘s sake?“

“You’re that desperate for conversation that you hunted me up to ask my something stupid like that?! Poor bastard! You must be in one hell of a shape! What’s wrong?” He frowned. “Does Jim blame you for my absence?”

“I wish to speak with you.”

“I believe that’s what you’re already doing, Vulcan!” McCoy sipped his drink. “’Would you care to elaborate for clarity’s sake?’” he mocked. “Who talks like that, anyway?! You know, that’s what I’ve missed about you. All those dumb ass remarks.” He looked at Spock fully for the first time. And it was a stripping look. Then he looked away. “Among other things.”

“Doctor--” Spock said with obvious discomfort. There’s times when you want to be somewhere and other times when you have to be somewhere. And then there are times when you just don’t have any choice in the matter, because your heart just won't give you any peace, otherwise.

“You know, I’ve always tried to give you time because Jim said you didn’t know our ways. But I guess it wasn’t enough time. He said that I should be patient with you, but I guess I wasn't patient enough. But then I got to thinking. That won’t ever change with you, will it?! There isn’t that much time and patience in the universe for you, is there? And another thing! You still act like we should be honored to have you around!” He became aware of other bar patrons staring at him and Spock. It wasn’t what McCoy had said. It was that he had said it so loudly.

McCoy looked back at his drink and absently whirled the sweaty glass in his fingers.

“But that’s a different story,” he muttered. He went back to contemplating the amber tones in his drink and the richness of those golden tones. A man could get lost in those tones and those depths. Heaven only knew how many times that McCoy had tried to do just that. And now, once again, those depths looked so alluring. He must study their beauty, as if the Lorelei dwelt within his sparkling glass. Fascinating!

After a few moments, Spock spoke again. “Doctor--”

McCoy stirred himself. “You’re still here?” he questioned, half in anger, half in amazement.

“Jim sent me.”

“Of course, he did. Well, there went that final illusion.“ He smirked, then took a deep breath, then glanced at Spock. “Well, you can tell Jim Kirk that I’m not interested. Not now, not ever. I don’t care what he’s dreamed up.“ He made a shooing motion with his hand. “You can go away now.”

But Spock kept his seat. He had his orders.

Leonard finished his drink, then glared at Spock. "You lookin' for something?"

“Someone. You.”

“Something, don’t you mean?” McCoy demanded with bitterness in his voice. He looked around him with disdain. “There’s no people here. Not really. Just things left over from the previous lives of once decent people.” He glared at Spock with a harshness in his eyes. “Ain’t nobody alive in this hole anymore. They lost their souls a long time ago. These are dead people without the decency to stay in their graves.”

“I do not like your bitterness, Leonard.”

“And I don’t like my life, Vulcan! So there!”

“You have a good life, Doctor. You have had some daunting problems, though.”

“Daunting problems?! Boy, you are the kind of understatement, aren’t you?! Look, I’m a three time loser, Vulcan, or hadn’t you been counting? I’ve really got a sterling record. It seems that I can’t make it with either sex.”

The bartender and several patrons glanced at McCoy.

“We should not be talking about private matters in public, Doctor,” Spock suggested, as he looked around at their audience. They looked away when they caught Spock’s eye. He had given them an intense glare which had carried a strong hint about them minding their own business.

McCoy shifted. “Well, then, that about finishes this conversation, doesn’t it? ‘Cause this is about as private as things are going to get between you and me for awhile.”

“I do not care for this atmosphere.”

“Here’s a newsflash, Vulcan. What you may or may not care for isn’t a primary concern of mine, anymore. You lost your vote in that matter awhile back.” He turned aside. “Things have changed between us, or hadn’t you heard?”

“I have heard, Doctor, but that is not the reason why I am here.”

McCoy winced, shuddered, then smirked. “Serves me right,” he muttered. Then he directed himself back at Spock. “You just can’t keep from rubbing it in, can you?”

“I do not understand you, Doctor--”

“You can’t leave it alone that my virtue is not in any danger, can you? And don’t you dare ask, ‘What virtue?’”

"May we step outside?" 

McCoy’s heart leaped. Spock wanted to be alone with him! In the dark!

Nah! he told himself. You’re misreading, again. You’re wishing things were the way you want them to be when they can’t be. You’ve been doing such a good job of playing it cool ever since you spotted Spock in the doorway, don’t mess it up now. Don’t let him know that it took everything in your power not to jump up and grab him. Don't scare him off. Don’t let him know that you’d gladly grab him now and get lost in those eyes and those arms and that heart--

“Doctor?” Spock sounded puzzled, which he was. People generally answered direct questions when he asked them. McCoy’s eyes had suddenly glazed over. That had alarmed him, but he kept that alarm out of his voice.

McCoy mentally shook himself to bring him back to his playacting. Super Cool Man is back on the stage! “So, why do you wish me to step outside with you?” McCoy asked, feeling devil may care and sounding it.

“I wish to speak with you alone.”

McCoy snorted. “Are you planning on robbing me, Vulcan?”

“If that was my plan, I would wait until you left.”

“You’d be waiting in vain. I don’t have much to steal.”

“What you are referring to is simply monetary. You have other assets. Your doctoring skills, for example.”

McCoy snorted again. 

“Doctor, why are you here? Why here, with the dregs of society?"

“I got nowhere else to go. I got the whole universe, you might say. But where in the whole universe can I hide from myself?” McCoy looked around. “Besides, these are my people now.”

Spock didn‘t need to glance at the other patrons, but his disdain for them echoed in his voice. “Your people?”

“My type,” McCoy answered with a hardness to his voice. “They are my type, now. The scum of the earth. The dregs of society, as you termed it. I even have a motto for me and my people: Bottom feeders unite! Let‘s all get forgotten together!” He frowned. “’Cause the universe has forgotten all about us already, anyway.”

The bartender and one of the bar patrons glanced at McCoy, then went back to their own solitary worlds.

Spock disliked the lack of privacy. “Doctor, please--”

With a smirk, McCoy glared at the Vulcan. “Begging now, are you? I’ve been using a variation of that technique on you for years, and now you expect that if you crook your finger at me that I will come running at your beck and call just because you are the one doing the--”

“What are you talking about, Doctor?” Spock was on dangerous ground here. He was almost telling a lie.

“That’s probably been part of the trouble, also, I expect. You didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. Well, that’s better, I suppose, than your knowing what I was meaning and still turning me down. That would really deflate the hell out of me. I don‘t count much with you, do I?”

“You have been one of my closest associates. I value your opinion very much.”

McCoy stared at him as he was trying to figure him out. “After all of these years, that’s all you can come up with? That would hit a lot of people on the Enterprise and in Starfleet service.”

“I consider you to be a friend.”

McCoy studied him some more. “For you, that’s a lot to say, isn’t it?”

“That is more than I am comfortable with saying. But I know that we are companions.”

“Well, I’m glad that you got that much figured out, at least. Even a Vulcan should understand, and appreciate, when somebody hands over his heart.” McCoy frowned. “But there I went assuming again, wasn‘t I?” McCoy stood up.

“Where are you going?” Spock fully expected to hear that McCoy was leaving the Blue Goose and did not want his company. Or that McCoy was going to the bathroom, and he did not want company. Or that he was going to get on with the rest of his life now, however little there was left of it, and did not want company.

“You wanted me to step outside, remember? But you didn’t state why. Maybe you want me to observe the phase of the moon with you, perhaps, or to breathe some fresh air or maybe even to contemplate our existences in this life and how we all figure in the scheme of things. I don’t know. It’s your party. You wanted me to accompany you.“ He frowned. “Or is the offer not open, anymore?” He turned and walked away.

Spock spun off the stool and followed McCoy.

McCoy glanced as Spock stepped to his side. “Well, I didn’t even have to leave a trail of breadcrumbs, did I?”

“I believe that I am the one with the breadcrumbs.”

“Oh, you are getting more clever, aren’t you?!” McCoy asked at the door. “Do you know what Jim has in mind?”

Spock did, but he wanted McCoy to stay intrigued with the mystery. “Why not wait and let the captain explain to you.”

“You’re right, damn it!” McCoy remarked as he stepped into the night. “You do have the breadcrumbs!”

“As you wish to believe, Doctor,” Spock said noncommittally as he walked beside McCoy along the boardwalk. He was feeling rather smug because he had gotten McCoy to do what he had wanted so easily.

“It’s a little off full moon, by the way,” McCoy remarked. “But I do not knowing if it’s waxing or waning.”

Spock frowned. “Pardon?”

“The phase of the moon. We were talking about what phase of the moon it was.”

“We were?”

“Boy, you’re going to have to sharpen up with some of your skills of observation and your memory capacity if you ever want to make it in this private investigator business.”

“Doctor, I do not know what you are talking about.”

“Okay. Then let’s try a subject that you’ll recall only too well. Watch out, Vulcan. I‘m about to get personal, and you‘re about to get uncomfortable.” McCoy took a deep breath. “I missed you. Have you missed me?”

“Doctor--”

“Well, there is something to be said for a Vulcan never being able to lie!” McCoy said with a short spurt of laughter. “Get rid of all of those false illusions from the get go, McCoy! The Vulcan really is here because Kirk ordered him here! Wasn‘t it lucky that Scotty and Sulu and Chekov could tell you right where you could find me?!”

“I did miss you, Doctor.”

McCoy shot a glance at the figure beside him. “Really?” A victory! Yeah, but he couldn’t leave it alone. “I suppose that sickbay wasn’t the same without me, was it? Or meals with Jim.” He wanted to hear Spock’s confirmation that that was the full extent of their relationship and therefore dump salt in his own open wounds. And McCoy could still be protected, because there was no chance in hell that Spock liked him back.

Such ambivalent feelings! McCoy so wanted to be with Spock, but he feared it, also. He knew it was his own lack of confidence, but he was so unsure of himself and of Spock.

“Meals with Jim?“ Spock answered. “Of course, you were missed then, Doctor. Meals with Jim got very awkward sometimes. Jim was very distracted by your absence.”

Well, that least there was that much! “That’s what I figured,” McCoy managed to mumble.

“And there were other times, Leonard.”

“Oh?” Oh, hell, the Vulcan was gonna say it! And here he was, not prepared. Maybe Spock had come after McCoy for another reason than Kirk had ordered him. Maybe Spock had wanted to find McCoy and bring him back. For himself. Because Spock had wanted him back. For himself. And for all that possession would imply.

“I have missed talking with you, Leonard.”

“And I have missed talking with you, also,” McCoy answered, half-numb with Spock’s confession, yet hoping that Spock had missed him for romantic reasons and would say it. There was still time. McCoy would give Spock all the time he needed.

“Since you left, I have felt remiss that I had not told you how much I value your friendship. We are more than crew mates, Doctor, we are companions. And I should have acknowledged that a long time ago.”

McCoy recognized a guilty conscience and knew that he needed to soothe it. At the moment, that was more important than pushing anything romantic.

“Well, I should have given you the chance. No wonder you couldn’t acknowledge it. I’ve always been belligerent.”

“Not always, Doctor.”

“Really?”

“There have been times, when you were ill or injured, when you clung to me. I knew then that you thought I could help you, even if you were cussing me out.”

The friendship thing. The comrade angle. Nothing more.

Hell, that was a lot more than other people ever received from this tight-lipped bastard! McCoy should be happy with that much. And he was.

“I’m happy you found me tonight, Spock,” McCoy said magnanimously.

“I am happy that I found you, also, Doctor. As I know Jim will be,” he quickly added.

Yeah, cover yourself, Vulcan, McCoy thought.

“You are smiling, Doctor.”

“It’s a pleasant night, Mr. Spock. I was getting bored in that bar, anyway. Tell me, what’s been going on in the Enterprise since I’ve been gone?”

“We did a couple of escorts--”

“No, Spock, you know what I mean. Who’s been doing who? And were there repercussions?”

“You know that I do not gossip about affairs of the heart.”

“Actually, Spock, I believe that the really interesting affairs involve a region located quite a bit lower on the body than the heart. Affections of the heart, and mind, really don‘t interest me all of that much.”

“I do not interest myself with base emotions.”

“Oh, Spock, Spock, Spock. Your education has been sadly neglected. How do you think you were created? Your father certainly didn’t admire your mother for her fine intellect or for her beautiful way of speaking.”

“But he did. My mother always possessed an astute mind and voice.”

“Well, let me tell you one thing for damn certain! That wasn’t the only things that your father noticed about your mother. Or her about him. He had to have been a man with her, or he would have lost her a long time ago. He had to have been a husband to her, or he couldn’t have kept her. And they sure as hell wouldn’t have had you!” McCoy pursed his lips and decided to take a chance. “And I’m glad that they did.”

Spock frowned. “Doctor?”

“I missed you, Spock. I’m glad that I know you. I’m glad that you’re in the universe. So, there! Sue me! But I like you! Okay?!”

“Well, alright, Doctor, if it will make you feel better.”

“It will! I just thought that I’d never get a chance again to tell you. This might not be the right place or time, but I might not get the chance. Hell, there’s no guarantees that we’ll live until tomorrow, or to the end of this sidewalk. So things should be said! Right?!”

Spock, of course, was puzzled, both by the subject and by McCoy’s emotion.

“Right,” Spock drew out slowly.

McCoy smirked with irony. “You don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Well. No.”

“Well, just trust me on this one, okay? People like to know that you like them and that you miss them when they’ve been gone. Or that you will miss them when they’re going away.”

“Maybe Earthlings--”

“Even Vulcans! Your father had to have let your mother know how important she was to him, or--”

“Or your hypothesis that he would have lost her.”

“Now, you’re understanding!”

“So I have to let people know that they are important to me.”

“Yes, that’s the general idea.”

“How do I do that?”

“Well, you could say it, like I did.”

“There are not other ways?”

“There’s all kinds of ways!” He glanced at Spock. “You just have to find your own way.”

“Hmm. It does not sound easy.”

“I know. But it is easy, if it comes from the heart.”

“I gave pendants to you and Jim.”

McCoy touched his chest where his pendant lay. “Yes, you did. And it is very important to me.”

“I am glad, Doctor.”

McCoy smiled sadly and took a deep breath. That was all that he was going to get out of Spock, and he should be happy for that much. Spock liked him, as a friend.

Spock looked around. “I see that we made it to the end of this sidewalk and lived. Shall we try to see if we live until tomorrow?”

“That’s the spirit!” 

Now if Spock could only assimilate what McCoy had said about friendship.

 

Spock had. And he felt smug about so many other things, also. He was going to be bringing McCoy back to the Enterprise. On his terms. He had not had to declare himself, either. It was clear that McCoy wanted to return and had just needed a face-saving way of doing so. Spock, and Jim, had provided him with one.


	9. Make Yourself At Home--In The Brig

Spock and McCoy entered Jim Kirk’s quarters as Kirk glanced up. 

Good, McCoy thought. Jim doesn’t look angry, or happy. Just relieved. And cautious. 

“Bones, it’s good to see you back,” Kirk said carefully as he got to his feet and stood by his easy chair.

“It’s good to be back home, Captain,” McCoy answered, somehow realizing that he had the upper hand. He got the idea that Kirk was going to handle him very carefully, as if Kirk didn‘t quite know what to do with McCoy. 

Maybe McCoy’s absence had awakened Kirk to the fact that he could lose McCoy. McCoy was, after all, only human and mortal. Kirk had the ability to forget those salient facts sometimes.

“I’m sure that you’re in a hurry to get settled back into your quarters, Bones.”

Kirk sounded like a tour guide or a restaurant hostess.

“Where are my quarters, Jim?” McCoy asked with his old cockiness. “The brig?”

“Just where they have always been.”

“That’s generous of you.“

“We all have our little lapses. It was your turn.“

“Well, I want to thank you,“ McCoy said to Kirk. He looked back at Spock. “Both of you.“

“That’s what friends are for.“

“Friends who put their careers and their asses on the line for me. I won’t forget it.“

“You’d cover for us,“ Kirk summed up his reasons in one short statement. McCoy should know what Kirk meant.

McCoy did. He nodded his thanks once again, then grinned, more relaxed. “If I may be so bold, just how did you, ah, cover up my little adventure?”

“Don’t you remember, Doctor? You went on an extended leave of absence.”

“An extended leave of absence that I did not formally request, as I recall.”

“I choose to recall it differently, Doctor.” Kirk turned to Spock. “And I believe that my second in command is prepared to remember it as I do, also.”

“Well, it is more a matter of remembering it differently, Captain,” Spock remarked. “Otherwise, it has been a little while since the incident in question, and I find that my memory is a little hazy about certain details after this period of time.”

“Careful there, Vulcan,” McCoy muttered. “You’re getting awfully close to telling a lie. That would be a dark and murky path for any Vulcan to trod, especially you.”

“I believe that it is actually in the gray area of being a fib, Doctor.”

“You’re in the gray area between truth and falsehoods? Since when have you started walking on the wild side?!”

Spock stared at McCoy. “Since a certain stubborn doctor left me no choice.”

“We always have a choice, Mr. Spock!”

Spock gazed toward the ceiling. “Then I choose to remember the incident in a hazy manner, I am afraid.” He stared at McCoy. “And I will tell any court in the universe what I have just said. And I will declare it to my grave.”

“I believe that it will not come to that, gentlemen,” Kirk broke in. “I believe that we can just simply go back to our former lives, and go on from there.”

“Just as simple as that, Captain?” McCoy stared at Captain intently.

“Just as simple as that, Bones,” Kirk swore as he stared back at McCoy.

McCoy breathed the first cleansing breath he had drawn since he had come back on board the Enterprise. The incident, and what had caused it, was forgotten-- until the next time. These three never seemed to tire of this dance. But it was their dance, and they didn‘t mind how often they had to perform it. Just as long as they got to perform it.

“Spock said that you had something to discuss with us, Jim.”

“Oh. Yes. Well, it was a plan, an experiment, actually. I thought that in order to reduce tension between you two, we could change some perimeters of your contact with each other.”

“And what might that entail?” McCoy asked and could tell that he had voiced the puzzlement that was mirrored on Spock’s face.

“I’m having androids added to the crew of this spaceship.”

“Androids?! Is that a wise decision, Jim?”

“I just want to try it, Bones. Androids can do some of the tedious work.”

“Is that what androids were created for? As I understand it, androids are robots that look like humanoids.”

“That’s right. And they’ve been on starships before, in menial capacities. What I’m proposing is different. I’m thinking of using them in a more social way.“

McCoy frowned. “What are you saying, Jim?“

“How about copies of each of you that is congenial to the other person.“

“If you’re meaning what I’m thinking you’re meaning--“ McCoy started with a frown. “It won’t work.“

“Don’t be a naysayer. Give the idea a chance, Bones.“

“Well--“

“Just think of the possibilities. Androids could become our next best friends and companions. Spock could have the company of emotionless beings, just as he’s always wanted. He could talk for hours, and the android would stay fascinated.”

A glimpse of Spock showed Kirk two reactions from Spock. First, Spock looked pleased. Secondly, he looked puzzled.

“And, Bones, in time you could have medical staff who wouldn’t tire, wouldn’t complain, wouldn’t react, wouldn’t emote. But on a personal level, you could have a being that wouldn‘t contradict you all of the time to show you where you were wrong.”

Odd, but McCoy had the same reaction as Spock. First, McCoy looked pleased. Secondly, he looked more unsure of the change in sickbay and in his personal relationships.

This experiment should be interesting, to say the least, Kirk thought, as he studied his friends. Already, Spock and McCoy are ambivalent, and we haven’t even started.

“What do you say, gentlemen?” Kirk asked, eagerly.

McCoy relented. “Well, I’ll give it a shot.”

“Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked, turning to his Vulcan friend.

“Never let it be said that I would be the one to stand in the way of progress.”

“Good!”

“What did you mean by that crack?!” McCoy demanded, sounding like the McCoy of old. 

“Nothing, Doctor,” Spock said with a sigh. 

“That was an intolerant sigh!”

“I believe that you are hearing what you want to hear, Doctor.”

“I believe that we are in the nick of time,” Kirk declared, interrupting. “Mr. Andron, if you would join us please?”

The bathroom door opened, and a man with a countenance on his face stepped forward. Talk about a dramatic entrance! McCoy shot Spock a wild look, and Spock returned it with skepticism. The was the first time that they had agreed on something in years, Kirk decided.

“Mr. Andron, I would like you to meet my two senior officers, Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy. Gentlemen, Mr. Andron is here to introduce you to some of the androids that will be with us for awhile.”

The stately, tall, bald-headed man in a roman toga bowed to Spock and McCoy in turn. “Gentlemen.”

“Welcome aboard the Enterprise,” Spock said cordially. He had been the first of the two to regain his voice. “I hope that you enjoy your stay among us. Do not hesitate to ask if there if I may assist you. Avail yourself of wherever you need.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock. I shall remember that offer.”

“Well, nothing against you, I’m sure,” McCoy said with a wry smile. “But I hope that you have no need to avail yourself of my services, Mr. Andron. I’m the Chief Medical Officer on the Enterprise.”

Andron smiled graciously in return. “I doubt if I will, Dr. McCoy. But if I do experience some malfunction in my body, I suppose I should appear at the ship’s machine shop instead of your sickbay.”

McCoy’s mouth dropped open in confusion.

“Gentlemen,” Kirk interposed. “I feel that I should explain something. Mr. Andron is himself an android.”

Spock raised an eyebrow in appreciation, but McCoy’s face blossomed with surprised delight. 

“Amazing work!” McCoy declared. “You look positively real, Mr. Andron!” He glanced aside. “Almost like Spock.”

Spock gave McCoy a bored look, then glanced away.

“Thank you, Doctor. But your praises should go to my creators and not to me. They put words in my mouth. Literally.”

McCoy grinned. “I would like to spend time with you, Mr. Andron.”

“And I, also,” Spock chimed in. “Are you one of the androids that will be with us?”

“I am more of a liaison officer, a foreman, if you will,” Mr. Andron informed almost jovially. 

“When will we meet these other androids then?” McCoy wanted to know.

“Well, to use a quaint express of you Earthlings, there is no time like the present, is there, gentlemen?” Andron asked with a bland smile. With that, he drew his arm to the side with a theatrical sweep, and two humanoids appeared out of the shadows. They were dressed in standard Starfleet uniforms with blue shirts, black trousers, and black boots.

Spock, and especially McCoy, stared quite openly at the new arrivals. 

“Where have they been?” McCoy was nearly startled by their appearance.

“They were in my bedchamber,” Kirk answered with a tight grin. 

“Was it like having two wooden Indians from a cigar store standing back there?” McCoy still had a creepy feeling from the mechanical dolls who were staring into the middle distance somewhere past the Starfleet officers‘ shoulders. At least, that was how they appeared since their eyes seemed more out of focus than anything.

“Actually, three. Mr. Andron was back there until I called him into the bathroom a few moments before you arrived.” It was obvious that Kirk had been a little unnerved by their presence, also.

McCoy frowned. “They spent the night with you, Jim?”

“Sort of,” Kirk deadpanned.

“Well, at least you have had company overnight,” McCoy muttered.

“Sort of,” Kirk muttered back.

Spock stepped toward the androids. “May I?” he asked Andron.

“Certainly. Please inspect us. We will not mind. In fact, our manufacturers welcome it.”

Spock peered closer at the faces. “Fascinating. Doctor, you must see this. The skin texture looks absolutely lifelike.”

Andron beamed. “Our manufacturers took particular pride in the quality of our skin. I am so happy that you noticed.” 

“I also notice that the that who looks like me has a greenish cast to its skin as I do, while Dr. McCoy’s double has a pinkish tone.”

Spock had recognized the elephant in the room without specifically naming it. What was glaringly unique about the two androids, and everyone had managed not to mention because of that uniqueness, was that one android looked like Spock and the other looked like McCoy. McCoy and Kirk had refrained from mentioning it because of the genuine creepiness of the resemblance. Spock had probably not mentioned it before because the conversation had not reached that point, yet. 

“They are remarkably modeled after us,” Spock noted as he scrutinized them.

“The models were made to duplicate you gentlemen as closely as possible.”

“Even under the clothes?” McCoy was finally able to bleat out. It was a little unnerving to see a mirror image of himself without the aid of a mirror. It didn’t seem to be bothering Spock, though. 

“Anatomically correctness in that area hardly seemed necessary,” Andron answered pleasantly. 

“That should get rid of a lot of nasty, old tensions, then, shouldn’t it, Spock?”

“Bones, play fair,” Kirk pleaded under his breath.

McCoy pressed on. “What about the hands?” 

“Standard issue, Dr. McCoy,” Andron answered.

“So, it’s only the heads that are unique to Spock and me.” McCoy glanced up. “Even to his pointed ears.”

“Yes. The head is what impresses people the most.”

“I don’t know,” McCoy muttered. “I use my hands a lot in my medical practice to convey comfort and caring. I like to think that my demeanor and personal interest are as important to a patient‘s healing as the medicines I dispense. And Spock’s hands are major erogenous zones for him. He conveys a lot of expression though them, even if he doesn‘t like to admit it.” 

Spock raised an eyebrow, but accepted that McCoy might know more about what Spock unconsciously transmitted via his hands than even Spock realized that he did. Spock hoped that neither he nor McCoy had to explain to Captain Kirk how McCoy had gained that knowledge of Spock’s hands.

McCoy frowned. “Hands can’t be standardized for either of us.”

“For our experiment, though, they will be,” Andron said pleasantly, but firmly. “Our environmental testing will only be through your personalities.”

McCoy raised his eyebrows in skepticism, but held his tongue. He would try to keep an open mind.

“How long is this experiment to last?”

“Why, it might not even be an experiment, at all,” Andron answered pleasantly. “You two might find that you like the duplicates of each other so much that they will become permanent fixtures on the Enterprise.”

“Just like having another computer on board, with this duplicate of Spock here,” McCoy muttered and ignored Kirk‘s warning glance.

“Let me introduce your new crew mates. Mr. Spock, this is Andreas who will be with you.“

“Andreas,“ Spock said.

“Mr. Spock,“ the McCoy look-alike answered in McCoy‘s voice. “I hope that you are having a most rewarding day.“

Never had McCoy said anything as pleasant or as non-committal to Spock before. It was a little chilling to hear those kinds of words from something that looked and sounded like McCoy. Spock raised his eyebrow, but did not answer.

“Mr. Spock, I sincerely hope that I have not offended you,” Andreas said in McCoy’s voice.

“No, no, of course not,” Spock managed to stumble out. “I hope that you are having a most rewarding day, also.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock. I am.”

Anton was pleased and turned to the second android.

“Dr. McCoy, this is Anton,” Andron said in the way of introduction.

What do you say to a walking computer? McCoy decided to keep it simple, just as Spock had done. Or had tried to do. “Anton. My pleasure.”

“I am most pleased to meet you, also, Dr. McCoy,” the Spock look-alike answered in Spock‘s voice.

McCoy visibly relaxed and couldn’t stop his grin. “Well, now, that’s most respectful of you, Anton.”

“It is a privilege to work with someone as knowledge and as well-respected in the medical field as you are, Dr. McCoy.”

McCoy positively beamed. He looked around in pleasure. “Spock, are you taking notes? This guy isn’t challenging everything that I say.”

“I am sorry, Doctor,“ Spock snapped back, but he was clearly not sorry. “What did you say that could have been challenged? I apparently missed it, somehow.”

McCoy frowned. Spock was unset. What was going on?

“Perhaps what Dr. McCoy meant to say, Mr. Spock,” Andreas spoke up, “was that he was quite taken by a different slant on the situation.”

“That is correct,” Anton informed McCoy. “And Mr. Spock merely noted that nothing definitive was brought into the general conversation.”

For either Spock or McCoy to have contradicted the androids would have pointed out the fact that they were deliberately escalating the arguing. Each wisely held his tongue.

Kirk was impressed. The androids had successfully defused the situation by soothing tensions plus curbing the bickering between Spock and McCoy. These androids were smart.

“I believe that we are ready to commence the experiment, Captain Kirk,” Andron said pleasantly in the quiet.

“I believe that you are correct, Mr. Andron.” Kirk could tell that Spock and McCoy were feeling off-balance. It wasn’t going to be as bad or as good as they had originally feared. But it was definitely going to be DIFFERENT.

“How long are we, ah, trying this for?” McCoy asked again.

This time, Andron had a different answer. “There will come a point when it will become obvious that the experiment should end, one way or the other. Either the androids will stay, or the androids will leave. Then the decision will be made.”

“But who makes that decision? You, or Captain Kirk, or both of you?”

“Neither of us,” Andron answered blandly.

“Surely not the androids?!” McCoy snapped, in his old way.

“Of course not.”

“Then, who?!”

“Why, I thought that was fairly obvious, Dr. McCoy.”

“Not to me!” McCoy thundered back at Andron. The damn walking computer was starting to make him angry.

“Dr. McCoy,” Spock said, suddenly beside him.

“Go away, green guy! I’m having enough trouble trying to get a straight answer out of your buddy here! I don‘t need you getting in the mix and confusing the matter further!”

But Spock persisted. “Dr. McCoy, we are being offered prototypes of people who would be perfect for us, is that not true?”

“Well, that’s stating the obvious, but what’s that got to do with it?!”

“Isn’t it logical that if we are being offered prototypes of perfect people, then it will be our decision on whether they are successful or not?”

“Oh. Ah. I see what you mean. I guess that I couldn’t see the forest for the trees on that one.”

Of the five beings in the room, only Kirk understood clearly what McCoy had meant. Spock idly wondered what a stand of timber had to do with the situation, and the three androids didn’t care one way or the other. They didn’t even wonder about the statement, either idly or actively.

“Mr. Spock is correct, Dr. McCoy. You and he will decide the outcome of the experiment. One thing, Mr. Spock, the experiment will not be deemed either a success or a failure,” Andron reproved gently.

Spock conceded with a gentle nod of his head, and McCoy figured that Spock blamed that pesky human side of him showing up in his thinking.

“We are simply seeing whether the addition of androids will ease tension in your work place and in your general social environment,” Andron continued.

“And how and where will we make that decision, Mr. Andron?” Spock asked. “Here in Captain Kirk’s quarters on the Enterprise?”

“Well, that would be logical now, wouldn’t it? But we’re going to make it a little more momentous than that, if you will allow. You will agree, will you not, gentlemen, that it will be a momentous occasion?”

McCoy mumbled and shuffled his feet. Spock raised an eyebrow slightly, but showed no other sign of debating the issue one way or the other.

“Besides, I do not want you getting signals from each other. And you would if you were standing together here in Captain Kirk’s quarters.”

McCoy shuffled some more and Spock twisted his body slightly, but they agreed with Andron’s summation.

“At some point, all of us will beam down to the surface of Narsarya B. McCoy and his duplicate Andreas will be in the forest on one side of a clearing, and Spock and his duplicate Anton will be in the forest on the other side of the clearing. I will be with one set of you, and Captain Kirk will be with the other set. At a certain time, one from each set of you will emerge into the clearing.”

“Isn’t that a little theatrical?” McCoy asked with a frown.

Andron shrugged pleasantly. “You will have to forgive me. One of my creators wanted to be a Shakespearean actor, but there isn’t too much call for that sort of thing in the universe these days. The legitimate theater really isn’t that legitimate, anymore. Besides, my creator really wasn’t that great of an actor. I believe that his type is called ‘ham,’ but that was rather alarming for the good Jewish boy that he was. So he programmed me with a dramatic flair. Anton and Andreas are rather prosaic, I fear,” Andron said with an affected sigh. “Some people might term it a flaw in my makeup, but I find it somewhat engaging at times.”

“It’s the first step in becoming a human being,” McCoy said with a tolerant smile. “Overly dramatic and a little conceited. Well, actually, that’s two steps, Andron. You’re well on your way. Any day now, you’ll be catching up with Spock here.”

Spock gave McCoy a writhing look.

“See?” McCoy questioned. “Spock’s trying to stay ahead of you, though. He claims that he has control of his emotions, but I believe that we nearly had a demonstration of the loss of that control. And that would be a nasty mess, for certain. Computer parts would be scattered everywhere.”

McCoy looked smug while Spock looked annoyed. One thing was for sure. McCoy was definitely feeling home again and was back in his stride. Now he would get to try all of his sharpest barbs on Anton.

“Oh, Captain Kirk,” Andron said in awe. “I believe that we have arrived just in the nick of time. I believe that we can alleviate this situation.”

Kirk hoped that Andron was right.


	10. Life With The ‘Droids

It felt strange at first to wake up in the morning full well knowing that Spock was waiting for him somewhere in his quarters. Of course, it really wasn’t Spock, but that really didn’t matter. The illusion was there. It ended when McCoy addressed him.

“Good morning, Anton.”

“Good morning, Dr. McCoy. I trust that you slept well?”

“Very well, thank you. It’s not everybody who has his own personal watchdog in his quarters.”

“Pardon?” Anton asked pleasantly.

“Never mind. You know, sometimes you could go stay in Captain Kirk’s quarters, if you wanted a change. Or you and Andreas could spend an evening together. I expect that Spock wouldn’t mind.”

“And why would Andreas and I wish to spend time together?”

“Well, you’re friends and everything, I expect.” McCoy frowned as he thought about it. “Aren’t you friends?”

“Andreas and I were made in the same construction facility, but we are not friends. We owe no allegiance to each other. We are machines.”

“Of course, I forgot.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“For what?”

“That is a very nice compliment for our workmanship. You are forgetting that we are not humans.”

"Of course, but it is easy to do so. You are very human is so many ways."

"I am certain that our workers would be honored by your remark. That is a nice compliment."

“We humans take it as a compliment if someone notices our humaneness to each other. That’s what we strive for, to be kind and considerate to our fellow man. That’s what sets us above the animals. And when we believe that we have achieved that humaneness, then we feel good about ourselves. It is what many of the religions on Earth teach. We believe that we should encourage our fellow man.”

“Then it is a worthwhile goal for you.”

“Yes, it is.” McCoy straightened his shoulders. “Well, shall we go meet Mr. Spock and Andreas and Captain Kirk for breakfast?”

“Certainly.” Anton followed McCoy out the door. “I do not participate in the ingestion of foodstuffs, of course. But I will be happy to accompany you for the social aspects of your eating ritual.”

“Oh, I forgot. Perhaps you would rather go someplace else until we are finished.”

“Why?”

“So you won’t feel conspicuous.”

“I assure you, Doctor, that it will not bother me if it will not bother you. Andreas and I will simply be with you and your party.”

 

“So when does it start not bothering us?” McCoy muttered under his breath.

“Doctor?” Spock frowned as he sat across the table from him. "Would you care to elaborate?"

“They’re sitting here with us like two statues. Your look alike is with me, and my look alike is with you. I’ve seen more than one person look twice before they remembered what’s going on. Just think how this might seem to somebody barely managing to stumble down here to get coffee for a hangover. Seeing double like that would might make them think that they were still drunk.”

“The popular belief is that it would cause a person to swear off drinking forever,” Spock offered.

“It might drive them to take up the practice, also!” McCoy snapped back.

“Gentlemen,” Captain Kirk cautioned. “Are you having problems? You do have your dining companions to visit with instead of each other, you know. That is what they are here for, remember?”

“How can I forget when I have a Spock lookalike breathing down my neck day and night?! Sorry. I correct myself. These guys don’t breath. When you think about it, they don’t do a thing for the oxygen and carbon dioxide exchange that works so well on Earth. A man breathes in oxygen and expels carbon dioxide. A tree breathes in carbon dioxide and expels oxygen. A wonderful system that keeps each kingdom going. But the androids can't figure in that wonderful scheme. When you think about it, a whole planet of androids could single-handedly account for wiping out that planet’s plant kingdom in a few thousand years.”

“I doubt if the inhabitants of any planet are concerned about the plant life on their planets, Doctor.”

“Well, they should be, you green-blooded hobgoblin! The inhabitants are all air breathers! If they want to keep on breathing, they jolly well should be concerned about the plant life on their planets!”

"I did not say that they should not be concerned, Doctor. I said that I doubted that they are concerned."

"You agreed with me?!" McCoy was stunned.

A cryptic smile almost floated across Spock's face. That had been almost as rewarding to Spock as winning an argument with McCoy.

“Gentlemen, may I suggest again that--”

McCoy shifted his focus. “Don’t you feel odd over there, Jim, with no double staring back at you across the table?”

"I do feel a little left out," Kirk agreed.

“Well, it is a little disconcerting that these guys just STARE all of the time that they are not reacting to us. Anton, do you have any thoughts on that subject?”

It was if someone had turned on a switch. Anton stirred and smiled. “I believe that you are making excellent points so far, Doctor, and I have enjoyed listening to you. It has been quite a stimulating discussion.”

From the corner of his eye, McCoy saw Spock freeze and actually stare with incredulity at the mirror image of himself. Well, that reaction was worth waking up ten androids. The real Spock would never have gushed like that to McCoy, but it was like the fulfillment of a dream to hear the illusion. McCoy felt pretty smug about what he had gotten the android to say.

“You are experiencing happiness, Doctor?” Anton wanted to know. "I see that you are smiling. And you do have a beautiful smile, I might add."

This was a great bonus. McCoy did not realize that Spock was capable of doing eye rolls, but the Vulcan just executed a beauty. Anton might be too much of a good thing at times, but at the moment he was invaluable to McCoy.

"Why, thank you very much for your compliment, Anton."

"But, Doctor," Anton said. "It is not a compliment when it is the truth."

Kirk choked on whatever he was eating, and Spock threw his arms down and actually huffed.

This was getting better all the time!

“The universe is a beautiful place, Anton.”

“And so it is, Doctor. Especially when there are such agreeable people such as yourself in it.”

McCoy had the satisfaction of seeing Spock miss his mouth with a spoonful of cooked farina and strawberries.

A beautiful place, indeed!

 

“So, I’m curious. Is your skin green all over?” McCoy asked in a confidential manner as he sat at his desk in sickbay. He felt a little deviant, but he was curious as hell. 

“Just the face, the neck, and the hands,” the Spock look alike answered. “Only the parts that you can readily see have the texture of true skin.” He shrugged. “Why have something if it isn’t seen? That would be a glaring waste of available monies,” the android answered smugly.

Yup, this was Spock‘s double, alright, McCoy decided. 

They had spent a few hours in sickbay while McCoy showed Anton around the facility and the staff got accustomed to something in their midst that looked like Spock, but wasn’t Spock. Although Anton had acted docile and was mildly interested by all that was transpiring, McCoy could tell that Anton was not putting anyone at ease with his presence. In fact, more than once, McCoy would see a staff member start, either from Anton’s resemblance to Spock or by Anton’s general creepiness. It’s a little disconcerting to watch something not breathing when common sense tells you that something that looks alive should be breathing. Chapel, who could give wild looks on a good day was giving wilder looks. Her eyes were rolling wildly and she would probably have nightmares tonight. The Anton thing was definitely making her shudder. McCoy would probably get an extensive report from her tomorrow.

But that was then. McCoy didn’t have to think about Chapel and her night demons, for awhile. He could concentrate on Anton and the nature of his artificial skin.

“Do you mind if I see your body underneath your shirt for myself? I‘m intrigued about what it must look like, if it doesn‘t resemble skin.”

Anton flipped his shirt up without a moment’s hesitation. The movement was like flipping a page, if the book was turned sideways. McCoy leaned forward and peered at the chest of the android. It was like looking at alabaster. There was a fine molding on the surface as if to indicate muscles and sharper ridges for ribs which didn’t exist under a skin-like substitute for skin which didn’t exist, either.

“Thank you, Anton. You may pull your shirt down now,” he said to the doll looking humanoid or human looking doll. McCoy was at a loss as to what exactly he should be calling the androids, and he didn’t mean the names that they went by. There was something almost spooky about the guy that was with him. How had Kirk slept with three of them standing in his bedroom?

Had Kirk even slept that night? He had looked a little hung over now that McCoy thought back to that day when Kirk had introduced the androids to him and Spock. Of course, Kirk looked a little hung over a lot of the time, so that had been nothing new. Plus, there had been all of that angst of returning to the Enterprise after McCoy’s rather unceremonious exit. McCoy really hadn’t known what kind of reception he would get. Of all the things he had imagined, finding doubles of himself and Spock hadn’t made it on his list of possibilities. And McCoy hadn’t been the same since.

McCoy had seen androids before. After all, he was a doctor. He’d worked with the creations in medical labs while an undergraduate in basic science classes and postgraduate in med school. Besides that, androids, robots, humanoids, and any of that sort of thing had been around for several hundred of years, even the ones that looked so lifelike. Androids did drudge work in factories and housework in homes. But he’d never been around one who was supposed to be a duplicate of someone he knew. He never knew one until now who was supposed to be a companion.

He wondered how Spock was handling it. The android part probably didn’t bother Spock, at all. Conversing about philosophy and art and music to a kindred spirit would thrill Spock to no end. Spock would be pleased with a cultured, agreeable android. An android looking like McCoy might be an entirely different matter, though. McCoy felt an evil glee. He hoped that being around an android that looked like him bothered Spock. He hoped that it bothered the hell out of Spock.

“You are smiling, Dr. McCoy,” Anton said pleasantly. “May I inquire what has cheered you? Is it one of your amusing remembrances of your life down in Georgia from when you were growing up? Or perhaps you are remembering one of your myriad tales of nights spent drinking and whoring around during your academy days at Starfleet?”

McCoy flinched. If a human would have said that, McCoy would have been mildly insulted and would have probably busted the smart mouth in the kisser. Now all that McCoy might get accomplished was to bust his own hand, and he had no desires to do that at the moment. Still, the android should not have said so insulting. The worst part was that Anton had said the insult in a perfectly cordial voice. It was only his words that stirred McCoy’s ire. The android, of course, had no real knowledge that what it had said might not be taken as a compliment to the recipient.

Perhaps the human who had programmed Anton knew of McCoy’s egotistical love of his own stories and wanted to poke him a little. Perhaps, though, McCoy was being super-sensitive. Perhaps he should just overlook it and blame it on the source. The android didn’t understand innuendo.

“I was just thinking of something that could be potentially humorous, Anton,” McCoy answered with a twinkle in his eyes.

“And the potential alone can cause you to enjoy feelings of mirth? Even before something humorous has occurred?”

“Yes. Oh, yes! That’s called anticipation. It happens because you’ve been around someone long enough that you’ll know how that person will generally react when something happens. Especially if it’s someone who is so maddeningly predictable.”

“I see. And that causes humor?”

“It’s been paying the salary for standup comedians for hundreds of years now.”

“Standup comedians?” Anton inquired.

“They didn’t program much common knowledge into you, did they?”

“No. Is that essential?”

No, McCoy just knew someone else who hadn’t been programmed with that type of knowledge, either. The difference was that Anton wanted to learn, while Spock was just curious about paradoxes. 

“It would help you to understand the everyday world, Anton. Slang and odd speech patterns would make sense to you. Life wouldn’t be such a puzzle to you.“

“I am willing to learn, Doctor, if you would be willing to teach me,“ Anton said pleasantly.

McCoy rolled his eyes upward. “Well, thank heavens that I’ve lived long enough to hear that.“

“What is that, Dr. McCoy?“

“Spock being willing to learn from me.“

“But it still isn’t Spock, Doctor. Not really.“

“I know. But give me my victories when I can get them, okay?“

“Okay, Doctor. What shall we do now?“

“Would you mind if I examined your body structure closer?”

“I would not mind at all, Dr. McCoy. If it helps you in your studies, I will be only too happy to comply.”

“Well, let’s just say that I’m curious. Here is a gown.”

Anton tilted his head as he studied the garment. “A gown? Am I going to bed?”

It hit McCoy in the gut. Well, a little lower.

Spock in a gown! In bed! Maybe wearing a gown that was a lot frillier than this one. Or a lot more revealing. Or barely brushed the top of his thighs. Or tiger-printed bikinis nipped high at the hip bones. Or a towel barely knotted on one hip and riding low on his abdomen. Any of those were more provocative than nudity. And McCoy had a good imagination. He licked his lips. A damn good imagination!

McCoy shook himself. Get those images out of your head, McCoy! Get rid of all of them, or Anton will learn something about your male anatomy that will amaze him. Even an android wouldn’t be able to miss that!

“It’s for modesty’s sake.”

“Modesty’s sake? Have you not seen a body before?”

“Of course, I have! It isn’t for my sake! I‘m a doctor, after all! Sorry. It’s for your modesty.”

“My modesty?” Anton asked with another tilt of his head. “Do I have a need to protect my modesty? Do I have something to be ashamed about? Or proud of?”

“You’re right. What was I thinking? Those are human conditions. Thank your makers that you don‘t have to be bothered by those nasty human feelings.”

Anton gave McCoy a complacent smile, then did as he had been asked. McCoy set the gown aside.

Anton pulled his long-sleeved tunic over his head as he agilely stood. He slipped out of the trousers and turned to drape them over the chair back. As he do so, he bent slightly. McCoy saw a separation in Anton’s lower back so the movements associated with walking could be achieved. But there was no tiny anus tucked in the division between the two hips. Of course, why would Anton need a method for defecating when he had nothing to defecate? Anton didn’t need to eat; therefore, he didn’t need to have a means to eliminate wastes from his body. Still, he didn’t look complete without a cute little anus twinkling out into the world.

Apparently, he didn’t need an anus for other activities, either.

That caused the return of vivid pictures to McCoy’s imagination of the real Spock’s anatomy. The real Spock would have a tiny, perfect anus tucked in the division between his two hips. The real Spock would have nerve endings that would respond to the touch of another hand. The real Spock could use those sensitive nerve endings and that tiny, perfect anus and other wonderful parts of him to love another responding body.

Stop it, McCoy! He wiped a shaky hand over his sweaty face. He was happy that Anton did not see his condition.

McCoy forced himself to concentrate on the android before him. Damn it, why did the android have to have Spock’s face? Without the gown, Anton looked like a nude statue, a nude statue made of stone. 

Perhaps gowns were for physician’s benefits, also. Gowns could keep everything so impersonal. Physicians could forget that there was a desirable body underneath the fabric.

Anton sat on the biobed in McCoy’s office. Since McCoy was primarily interested in Anton’s pubic area, he concentrated his examination there. But he acted as if he was inspecting the whole body of the android. He didn’t know why he should act in a sneaky manner. After all, he was a scientist. And Anton wouldn’t mind if McCoy took him apart, literally. The manufacturer might mind, but Anton wouldn’t.

But, still, McCoy felt sneaky, almost like a voyeur. It was one thing to handle a body as if it was sick and needed to be healed. It was another to be inspecting it for aesthetic purposes. Perhaps McCoy should think of himself more as an artist studying a model instead of as a doctor studying another body.

The area below Anton’s abdomen and between his legs was smooth as an old fashioned doorknob. McCoy thought of the marble doorknob for the door into Grandma’s back Sunday parlor. That doorknob had been cool to the touch on the hottest of days in Georgia. Of course, the parlor was used only on Sundays, so that doorknob was used very little. McCoy touched Anton down there, then drew his hand back. Anton had felt like that doorknob, too. Cool and impersonal and forbidding.

McCoy used his eyes to inspect Anton‘s southern climes. There was no indentation to mimic a vagina, no bulge to suggest a penis and gonads. No hair follicles meant no twisted, wiry hair, no ‘crooked’ hairs that announced their origins when they appeared in a public places where they shouldn’t: on a cake of soap and in food immediately came to mind.

No pubic hair, no social diseases, no cysts, no menses or cramps for females, no embarrassing erections at inappropriate times for males, no cancer, no odor, no ‘crotch rot,’ no sex, no nothing. That was living?! 

But McCoy had to remind himself that Anton wasn’t living. He wondered, though, what all of that felt like down there, all of that nothing.

“See anything down there that you like, Doctor?” Anton asked casually.

“Hmm? What?” McCoy questioned, distracted. Then he realized what Anton had said, and he felt embarrassed.

“What?!”

“You seemed to be staring for a long time at my workmanship. Do you wish to handle me? Perhaps you would like to rub me to see if I warm up with the stroking of your hands. That is what your flesh does when it is rubbed, does it not?”

McCoy’s mouth dropped open as he jerked backwards, and he blushed a deep red.

“Fascinating, Doctor. How did you manage to change your skin color like that? Can you do that at will, or do certain conditions have to exist for that to happen?”

“Well, ah--”

“Were there chameleons in your ancestry?”

That brought McCoy back to his senses. “No! No! No lizards of any kind are on my family tree! So none of my relatives can snap insects out of the air, either!”

Anton looked puzzled, but his face cleared. “That would be an interesting ability, but apparently one for which you have no aspirations.”

“Hardly! Replicated food isn’t the best thing in the universe, but it’s better than live insects!”

“To each his own, Doctor. I imagine that any number of bullfrogs would disagree with you.”

“Well, I’m not hankering to take up the lifestyle of a bullfrog in the near future, so we’ll never know for sure, now, will me?!”

“Doctor. My hearing is quite sufficient. You do not need to raise your voice for my benefit.”

“How about for my benefit, then?!”

“Well, if you are feeling the need to amplify your voice, I suppose you must do what you body requires you to do.”

What McCoy’s body had been requiring of him for a long time now was to have hot, messy sex with Spock, but it looked like that wasn’t about to happen anytime soon. If he’d had any plans for substituting this living doll for the real Spock, he forgot them now. Mainly because there was no penis or tiny, perfect anus on this creation to be dallied with. What an oversight! Would it have been too much to expect that the manufacturer could have included a working penis and anus on this model? After all, any number of blow-up dolls had been including those intriguing accessories for many years. Was it a step backwards now for Anton not to have these useful features?

“Is it my turn now?” Anton inquired.

“Your turn for what?” McCoy asked. He had been so deep in thought that he had nearly forgotten Anton’s presence.

“Do I get to examine the same area on you that you just examined on me?”

All the stars in the universe might as well have exploded behind McCoy’s eyelids. He was that thunderstruck by Anton’s words.

And one or two solar systems might well have exploded in McCoy’s nether regions, too. That area was more than thunderstruck as that definite jerk informed McCoy and centered his attention on the android who was gazing upon him so charmingly and so expectantly.

Then that charming android reached out his hand and brushed down the front of McCoy's trousers.


	11. What's Good For The Goose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> William Shatner is referred to in this chapter because of a comment from Esperata on Chapter 9. So, of course, I had to make it work because it added another layer of richness. It was too good to pass by. Dear Mr. Shatner, I hope you have a good sense of humor. And, again, I am indebted to Esperata.
> 
> "I'm now envisaging Andron's creator as being William Shatner. Is that what you had in mind? The overly dramatic Shakespearean flair fits right in."

That electric touch down the front of his pants got McCoy‘s attention, and his head shot up. “What?!”

“Do I get to examine the same part on you that you examined on me?” Anton repeated.

“That would be highly irregular!” he roared.

“There goes that fascinating coloration in your complexion again, Doctor. I really insist that you should do an in-depth examination of your family tree. You might be mistaken about the identity of some of your predecessors.”

“Unless one of my female ancestors fell for a line from a giant grasshopper passing through, I believe that there will be only humans in my ancestry. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Pity. That would make you so unique. In the meantime, would you amuse me by letting me examine you?”

“Amusement is not what I generally hope to stir in the person who is examining me,” McCoy said as he zipped down his trousers and pulled them to knee level as he stood in front of Anton on the biobed. “Detached evaluation from doctors or wonderment from sexual partners would be favorable reactions,” he muttered. “But not amusement.” 

He felt fresh air hit his nether regions as he pulled his briefs down. That revealed stuff that got Anton’s immediate attention and admiration. McCoy could tell by the look of appreciation on the android’s face. Amazing workmanship on the android’s facial expression.

Anton could probably say the same thing about what was currently holding his rapt interest. What in the hell do you look at when somebody (or someone) was not so covertly checking out your package?!

McCoy was feeling like an exhibitionist because Anton was leaned forward and peering quite closely at his pubic area.

“So many objects, Doctor! Whatever can be the purpose of all these objects be?” 

“It’s standard equipment, I can assure you of that,” McCoy muttered.

“Such beautiful workmanship! The creator must be very talented, indeed!”

“He most certainly is that.”

“You must be very appreciative of what you were issued.”

“I give Him thanks every day.”

Anton poked at a gonad.

McCoy grunted. “Careful! That’s attached! It‘s got all sorts of sensitive nerve endings that alert me in case of sensory overload.”

“How convenient. And what is this fuzzy stuff? Is this related to what is on your head and arms?”

“Yes, but please stop running your fingers through it, will you? You might cause an adverse condition.”

Anton complied, but then he did something almost worse. He decided to play with the two testicles and weighed them in his hands. “Fascinating!” he mumbled. “These must pull down a lot on your body.”

“No problem. We males make allowances for those. They’re no trouble, at all. They kind of rule the roost, so to speak.”

“They must be very precious objects to you.”

“Very, very precious,” McCoy assured Anton. “Males protect them, at all costs.”

“I would believe that home and family would come first.”

“Sometimes, it’s a toss-up.”

McCoy pursed his lips. All of that fumbling around in his nether regions was starting to register with him. And the good part, or the bad part, depending on how it was viewed, was that it looked like Spock who was handling his privates in such a proprietary way. How often hadn’t McCoy had visions of Spock performing just such an activity on him. Now his vision was coming true in every way, except the most important. This being that looked so much like Spock wasn’t Spock. And he didn’t have any sexual apparatus.

Friendly guy with no jewels, or unfriendly guy equipped like a god. Which was the better choice? Seemed like McCoy’s typical outcome. It was a lose/lose proposition, no matter how he looked at it.

“What is this for?” Anton asked as he grasped McCoy penis and changed their ballgame from a pick up game in the sandlot to the major leagues.

McCoy gasped and turned white.

“Another skin color?” Anton asked. “Are you certain that you are not a chameleon?”

“Yes, I am certain that I am not a chameleon! And if you grab me hard like that too many more times and pull it like you are trying to start a push type lawnmower, you are going to get a terrible mess all over your hands and body and whatever else is in that general direction, because I will not be responsible! Just saying, heads up, or else it might get real ugly in here, real fast!”

“Why? Will something erupt?” Anton asked genially. 

“Explode, will be more like it. And I might well die in the process.”

“We cannot have that happen,” he stated, alarmed, as he held McCoy gently in his hands. “My company cannot be responsible for such dire circumstances to occur with a client. I am certain that even Mr. Andron would frown at that happenstance, and you must realize how difficult it is for Mr. Andron to frown. He was programmed to be the cross between a carnival barker and a universe vaudevillian who had been trained in the William Shatner School of Acting. Frowns are not allowed for neither of the occupations nor at the renowned school which suffered greatly in the time of its founder for its legitimacy. In fact, the school was held in ridicule. Fortunately, however, it has since been determined that Mr. Shatner’s style of acting broadly was exactly what was needed to compliment the expanding colonization of the universe. He began his career as a stage actor, you know.“

“No, I, ah, had no idea,“ McCoy mumbled as she stared down at his happy member resting so securely in the hands of a non-human. How many guys can make a casual statement like that, he wondered. Hell, how many guys had ever had or would ever have occasion to have an experience like this or ever be able to make a statement like that? Of course, as the use of these recreational androids increased, more guys might be able to have these experiences. All it would take would be to include additional programming in the android’s packaging. Hell, the manufacturer might even give the android some packaging so androids like Anton might be able to have some fun, too. 

And people in the Twentieth and Twenty First centuries thought that they had so much with their blowup dolls! How about having one who could discuss Nineteenth Century Russian literature with a customer as it serviced that customer? Or an android who could critically evaluate grain futures with a customer while the customer enthusiastically ripped into its hind end?

One thing, Anton certainly got a person to thinking. It might not be about the most constructive subject out there, but it was certainly the most entertaining to McCoy at the moment. McCoy was no longer thinking about his trials and tribulations anymore or about the demands of his job. In fact, he was amazingly relaxed and focused on something highly entertaining. Yes, sir, McCoy was certainly going to be recommending this program in general and Anton’s dedication and work ethic in particular. 

McCoy became aware that Anton was still blathering away. 

“It has since been determined that Mr. Shatner was just ahead of his time, much as his signature and iconic character was. As has been said about others who were fully appreciated in their times, the proof is in the pudding. ”

A Spock who understood idioms?! That was almost too much!

“Chatty little thing once you get started, aren’t you?” McCoy wasn’t minding, though, as long as the android held onto his penis. At the moment, it seemed like a very humane and soothing thing to do.

Well, maybe not soothing. 

But sure as hell appreciated!

“You say that you could erupt from this experience?”

McCoy got a slapdash look on his face. “Oh, yeah.”

“Well, we cannot have that then, can we?“ Anton withdrew his hands. 

“Who told you to back off?!” McCoy roared as protests roared all through his body, but especially from his nether regions.

Anton gathered McCoy’s penis in his hands again, and McCoy sang his relief. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He couldn’t help it. Any man could understand.

“My handling of your lower appendage makes you feel good, Dr. McCoy?”

“Oh, yeah,” McCoy hummed.

“Strange.”

“What, now?”

“What I am holding of your anatomy is increasing in size and expanding and getting harder. What is happening? Is that natural?” Anton dropped the penis and pulled away. On its own and alert, McCoy’s penis waved at him, which did not help the situation any. It simply confirmed to Anton that he had awakened something that had been sleeping. Which, in a way, he had.

Anton grew alarmed, and his android face registered that alarm.

McCoy vaguely wondered if alarm, like frowns, were not part of Anton’s programming, but something that he was learning from being around humans. The manufacturers might learn from this little experiment that, like humans, androids could learn in more than one way.

But McCoy had other things to wonder about at the moment before he could be concerned about android programming from the manufacturer or learning from experience. Nature or nurture. An age-old quandary, and McCoy sure as hell didn’t expect, nor did he even want to expend the time or energy or thought it would require, to solve that program today. Right now, he had other things on his mind, and they centered on his penis that was waving enthusiastically in the face of Anton, much the same way as a python danced for the snake charmer’s music. 

“Don’t drop that thing again!” McCoy ordered. “I’ll tell you when I want you to let go, and that won‘t be for awhile! Understand?!“

“Yes, sir.“

“So, come on, damn it, now! Come on! Come on! I won‘t be telling you again! Come on!”

Anton dove to comply.

McCoy ached to grab Anton’s head and shove it against his own lower stomach. He wanted to order the android to service him with his hands, his mouth, and whatever else the android might have handy to use on him. McCoy just wanted this being that looked so much like Spock to touch him, to make love to him, to love him. How long McCoy had waited for this to happen between him and Spock. And now it was happening. Actually happening! And beautifully.

Kirk probably hadn’t figured on this outcome when he’d thought of adding androids to the staff, but it was turning out to be a fine solution for McCoy. If the real Spock would not be accommodating, then skip the real Spock! Thanks, Jim! You don’t have to worry about Christmas presents and birthday presents and that occasional gift required just to say that you love me! You’re covered for a helluva long time now! This was a helluva great solution! A mighty fine solution, indeed, and McCoy was prepared to take an oath on that opinion. 

But not until other things got taken of first, and they were humming along famously. McCoy was going to be so distracted for a few minutes that he probably wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence, let alone swear any oaths that might become part of a body of information referred to in the future by scientists seeking funds for further research and politicians needing testimonials to explain where spending funds were being allocated and why.

A soft cough was heard in the office and a slight rustle of feet and clothing. Then it was followed by a louder cough and an obvious banging of a chair against a wall when the action between the man and the android showed no signs of ending or even of slowing up any time soon.

“Doctor? Dr. McCoy?”

Chapel?! Chapel was in here?!

A red blur before McCoy’s eyes suddenly cleared, a red blur that McCoy had not consciously been aware of until now. When something comes on gradually, it is not as obvious as went it suddenly stops. McCoy hastily made a grab to stuff himself back into his trousers and to push Anton’s hands away. That was all kind of difficult to do since he wasn’t as pliant as when he had been released from his clothing. And Anton’s hands had grown accustomed to the rhythmic stroking it had been doing. Plus, the android was fascinated with the changing aspects of McCoy’s lower appendage. But with muttering and stuffing motions, McCoy finally got his socially unacceptable member hidden again. But neither he nor the android nor the offending member were any too happy about the interruption in their dalliances.

Then McCoy turned with as much dignity as he could muster and faced his chief nurse.

“Yes, Chapel?” William Shatner would have been proud of that steady voice. McCoy sure as hell didn’t know where its even tones had come from. Maybe something in the universe loved him, after all.

“I did knock, Doctor. I thought that I heard you say to come on.”

Technically, she was right. McCoy had said to come on. Just not to her, though.

“Anton and I were just comparing our bodies.”

“I can see that, Doctor.” Chapel’s humor was barely contained. “You seemed to be quite enthusiastically absorbed in your studies. It must be a fascinating project.”

“It was purely scientific research,” McCoy insisted.

“Certainly, Doctor.” She sucked her cheeks in to prevent laughter, but her pretty eyes were sparkling. “And did you learn anything?”

“Yes. I learned that doors in sickbay open way too quietly, and that head nurses should be required to wear bells on their shoes.”

And that’s when Christine Chapel opened her mouth wide so that some good, old-fashioned laughter could get out.

Anton was fascinated by Chapel’s performance, and McCoy knew that questions were forming in Anton’s brain even as Chapel fought for breath to continue her rib-hurting laughter. Her ribs must be hurting, because she was holding her sides so tightly.

“That is strange, Doctor. Nurse Chapel’s face is turning red the same way yours did. Is someone secretly examining her nether regions and stimulating them, also?” 

That stopped Chapel’s laughter in mid peal. “What?!” she gasped.

“Might I have the opportunity to examine her nether regions as I examined yours?” Anton continued. “May I handle her in the same way that I handled you? Will she turn bright red in the face when I tickle her nether regions?”

Chapel stared open-mouthed as the doll that looked like the guy she once had a heartbreaking crush on. She still would melt in Spock‘s arms, if given the opportunity. “Pervert!” she snapped. “You are a creep! I don‘t care if you did cost more than I‘m worth, that‘s no reason to insult me!” she informed the android and stormed off.

“Interesting,” Android noted. “Her face is red as yours was, but I am assuming from different causes. Her body language and demeanor are different from yours, also. Is all of that pertinent, Doctor?”

“Oh, very pertinent, Anton. You messed up big time with Christine. If you ever need anything, from an oiling in your joints to a reprogramming, I wouldn’t get it from Nurse Chapel. She’s going to be upset with you for a long time, and I don’t blame her. That is not to handle a woman or a lady. It’s a wonder you got off as lightly as you did with her.”

“Did I say something wrong, Dr. McCoy?”

“Yeah. Kinda. Guys aren’t supposed to say things like that to women. You might think them, but you just don’t say them. Not unless you don’t value your life or don’t mind having it cut short. Men might get angry at you and declare war on you and hate your guts forever, but revenge from a woman is worse. She‘ll make you wonder why you even have the audacity to draw breath. She‘ll make you hate yourself. You can hate everything else in the universe and still go on living. But when you hate yourself, that life just isn‘t worth living anymore. Then, when a woman gets you into that state, then she sits down and starts getting her revenge on you.“

Anton tilted his head. McCoy was learning that meant that he was having trouble accepting the illogical statement he had just heard. At least, the real Spock had never had that stupid, uncomprehending look on his face.

“Really? Is that not exaggerated a little?“

“Maybe I stretched it some, but you’ll think I was speaking truth if it ever happens to you. Just be happy that she left when she did.”

“So you believe that I did something wrong?”

“Yeah. In fact, you just insulted Miss Chapel.”

“I did not intend to do that. She is a very nice person.“

“I think so, too.“

“I do not understand your social norms.”

“Neither do I, sometimes.”

“Is that true?”

“Not really. Not to the degree you just executed. But I know someone else who makes me look like a piker when it come to the rules of society. And he wears the same face that you do.”

“You are speaking of Mr. Spock now.”

“Yes. Mind you, you, I mean, Mr. Spock, can be quite socially correct. But the reasons are far beyond him. To be fair, the rules of society have evolved over centuries of popular development, not from any legal or governmental sanctions.”

“It is all very bewildering.”

“Now you sound exactly like Spock.”

Anton glanced at McCoy’s trousers. “Shall we continue with my learning and with, I believe, were pleasurable activities with you?”

“I believe that I am past all of that, for the moment. Besides, it’s time to get back to work. Hopefully, Nurse Chapel will be sufficiently recovered. Maybe we can even convince her in time that it was all a misunderstanding. After all, you are still learning, as we all are.”

Anton smiled. “You are very good to me, Doctor.”

“Thank you. Now, if your counterpart would only say that, I would be very pleased, indeed.”

“He will not say what you wish him to say?”

“Among other things that he will not do for me.”

“Strange. He is not interested in pleasing you?”

“Not really.”

“He wasn’t programmed that way?”

“Nope. He sure as hell wasn’t.”

“Wouldn’t it have been better if he would have been?”

“Maybe. But then, who wants everything to be perfect in this life?”

“You?”

“Anton, you’re a pretty sharp guy.”

“I am truly sorry, Doctor. I will endeavor to get myself smoothed out. I appreciate all of the time and effort that you are using for the betterment of me.”

McCoy blinked, then gave the eager android a weary smile. “That’s alright, Anton. You’re perfect, just the way that you are.”

Damn it, just when things were looking up, a flaw appeared. Anton didn’t understand idioms, after all. Maybe he had been learning from the real Spock. In a way, though, McCoy liked the slip up. He was missing the way that the real Spock took idioms literally. Now maybe if Anton developed just a little attitude, it would truly be like having the real Spock back with him.

McCoy smirked. Who was he kidding? He was missing the bickering and the angst and the haranguing between him and the real Spock. 

Maybe Anton could develop a lot of attitude, and then it would be just about perfect on the Enterprise again.

 

“So, Andreas, you’ve been here for a few days now.“

“Yes, Mr. Spock, and I wish to thank you for being so willing to show me around and to visit with me,“ Andreas answered pleasantly.

It was difficult for Spock to grow accustomed to McCoy talking like the way he was talking now. Of course, Spock had to remind himself. This really wasn’t McCoy. It just looked like McCoy. But it was not McCoy. Far from it.

“What do you think of life aboard the Enterprise?” Spock really didn’t care about the answer, but he wondered how the android would answer. Andreas was programmed to be a more compliant version of McCoy, so Spock hoped that Andreas was truly a better form of companionship for him than Earthlings. What a delight that would be!

And Spock was also prepared to be delighted. Was it permissible for him to feel glee and satisfaction? Could he feel so enthusiastic and still stay Vulcan? 

Spock quickly dismissed it, though. Surely, even Surak would permit a small degree of indulgence after all of the months of angst that Spock had endured at McCoy’s hands.

“Oh, Mr. Spock, I find that it is most intriguing aboard the Enterprise! The interplay of the crew members with each other is quite interesting, is it not?!” Andreas’ eyes were shining. “It is really just a little den of inequity around here! Sin City, and all that implies! Humans do engage in a variety of illicit activities, do they not? Those activities can be most erotic and titillating!”

Well, maybe the android was a little too eager to share gossip, Spock decided. Not even McCoy was this involved with rumors and reports of sexual shenanigans. The good doctor was more dedicated to his profession and to the welfare of his patients.

Spock decided to try a different approach. “However, Andreas, I believe that if the crew was less interested in sex, then the ship would run smoother. Fewer people would suffer anxiety and weaken their constitutions. That would cut down on illnesses and would result in fewer patients in sickbay.”

“Oh, how true, Mr. Spock!”

Spock decided to run an experiment. “If there were fewer patients, then those lazy nurses would have nothing to do. They should be more professional. Anybody with any vision at all can clearly see how slovenly those nurses are. Their last concern is with their patients. In fact, they are more concerned with their nail polish and their hairdos than any sickness affecting the crew of the Enterprise.”

Spock braced himself. If he’d ever uttered those words to McCoy, they well might be his last words. McCoy held his nurses in the highest esteem. Nobody, but nobody, touched the reputation of the nurses on the Enterprise, especially if Leonard McCoy was within hearing distance.

Yet all that Andreas did was to give Spock a placid smile. “I will go by your judgment on that matter, Mr. Spock. You have been with the Enterprise much longer than I have been, and you have seen much more than I have.”

McCoy, the real McCoy, would never have let Spock get by with saying what he had said. Now there was an unfilled silence as Spock waited for a retort that never came.

Spock waited in anticipation to pounce on McCoy, to outmaneuver him, to beat McCoy at the psychological victory. It was best when McCoy was not for certain if he had been the winner or loser of any of their debates. That was when Spock liked to give McCoy a placid smile. Spock knew that his confidence drove McCoy to distraction. Perhaps the pleasure that Spock received at those times was verging on the deadly sin of pride, but Spock was willing to chance it for the satisfaction that he experienced at those times.

But now McCoy, or rather his counterpart, was not playing the game that Spock required. Where was there a victory if there was no contest? Where was there success if he was not challenged? Where was the pleasure in this? Spock might as well as not brought the subject up, at all.

A strange ennui overtook Spock. He could not believe it. Was he feeling himself… bored?!

“However, I believe that you brought up a few logical conclusions that I feel are very pertinent, Mr. Spock. Shall we go through the points in our discussion again so you will have the opportunity to make certain that I fully appreciate your fine deductive powers? After all, I am still learning, and I believe that you are a master not only of learned opinions but of presenting them in a succinct and riveting manner.”

“I believe that is not necessary, Andreas. You understood what I was saying.”

“But, oh, you are such a powerful speaker, Mr. Spock. How could I not feel inspired simply by being around you?”

It was not mocking, it was as sincere as a baby’s smile, yet Spock disliked it. Not only was he bored, but repulsed.

“I believe that our time can be better spent by viewing the passage of the stars in the forward viewing area.”

“Oh, what an excellent idea!” Andreas declared as he jumped to his feet. “I will feel so rejuvenated!”

Spock wasn’t certain what he would be feeling from so much exposure to such enthusiasm and agreement. But it would give Spock some much needed time to rethink his relationship with McCoy while Andreas was chattering away about the ever changing vista in the heavens.

 

Kirk felt his eyes glaze over and his ears stop up. Clear, concise answers from Anton and Andreas, Kirk thought. The two androids had presented logical and moral viewpoints to Kirk with a precision that amazed him. It was almost like talking with Spock and McCoy, but without their predictable breakdown into bickering. It was not a question of if Spock and McCoy would start arguing, but when and over what. Sometimes their disagreements even dissolved into downright belligerency. The two sides ranged from McCoy with snapping eyes and spittle flying from his tight-lipped mouth to the silent arrogance from the Vulcan who displayed his superior attitude that he had clearly won that argument. 

No, these androids could help Kirk a great deal without providing extraneous and time-wasting side issues. Just what any captain would need from senior officers. How come, then, did Kirk feel cheated?

He might as well have two computers standing beside his command chair than these two androids who looked like his friends, but didn‘t sound like his two friends. Kirk missed his friends. And he missed the interplay of his friends. Spock and McCoy were a part of Kirk’s life.

Not these guys, whatever they were.


	12. How Can You Kiss Me Like That And Not Love Me?

They were drawn back to each other because neither one was really happy with the androids being in their lives. Spock was even eager to be around McCoy again, but, of course, he was not about to let McCoy know of that preference. Spock intended to keep McCoy at a distance, to see what McCoy really thought of the situation. Then Spock would play by McCoy’s lead. That was generally Spock’s plan, anyway, when he had encounters with McCoy and others. Preferably, Spock would like to be a quiet observer, instead of a participant. His all-time scenario would be to watch and make judgmental remarks on the side. Spock would have made a great member of a Greek chorus. Indeed, his Classical, haughty looks and preference for slithering around in flowing robes would have prepared him well for that role. 

As it was, plans for conduct at his inevitable meeting with McCoy were somehow quickly ditched. Spock had good intentions. All too quickly, though, Spock was in McCoy’s arms and not knowing really how he had gotten there. A clinch between them had seemed as inevitable as their meeting.

It was an old argument between them, but a new element had been added since the androids had come into their lives.

“Dr. McCoy, I must insist that you go back to Anton,” Spock repeated as he tried to break away from McCoy. He was trying to get some control over the situation, not really realizing that it takes two to constitute a clinch. “You just believe in your mind that you want me.” Nor did Spock realize that he was fighting himself and Mother Nature as much as he was fighting McCoy.

“And I tell you that I’ve had my fill of Anton! He doesn’t fire me up the way that you do! He isn’t a self-starter! Hell, he won’t even talk unless I initiate a conversation! It‘s like being around a statue, because he is a statue!”

“You do not know what you are talking about,” Spock muttered as he squirmed, half-heartedly.

“Let me give you a proper kiss! Try to be receptive! Give yourself a chance! Give us a chance! I know you’ve got it in you to be loving!”

“You are mistaken, Doctor.” Spock broke McCoy’s hold and turned to leave.

“I am not mistaken! And get back here!” McCoy declared, grabbed Spock’s arm, and whirled him back around and into his arms.

Spock wasn’t expecting that maneuver. Momentum sent Spock crashing into McCoy, and he knocked the air out of himself with a grunt. McCoy did not give the winded Vulcan a chance to recover, but threw his arms around Spock and enveloped him into an opened mouth kiss.

Spock had opened his mouth and gasped inwardly in an effort to retrieve his lost air, but had, instead, sucked McCoy’s mouth into his own with the gasp. That didn’t help Spock’s breathing problem any. In fact, it greatly hindered his efforts to breathe inwardly. But Spock's action had most certainly enabled McCoy to find and suck Spock’s unsuspecting tongue into his own eager mouth.

There Spock stood with his mouth wide open, but still not getting any air. His eyes were wide open, also, but with alarm from his apparent suffocation. The irony was that he was going to die while in the arms of a doctor, a doctor who was currently causing him to suffocate. 

Spock whimpered in panic as he clutched desperately at McCoy in a plea for help, but McCoy thought it was Spock responding to passion and deepened the kiss. Squashing his face up against Spock’s nose did not help Spock’s problem in the least. In fact, it shut off most of the air that the Vulcan had been managing to get.

Slobbers ran down both of their faces as their hands groped each other, McCoy’s with mounting passion and Spock’s with mounting terror. Then Spock’s latent libido kicked in. And suddenly Spock didn’t care about breathing or brotherhood or honor or glory or anything, except the fact that he and the doctor were kissing once more. Why the hell had he been fighting this?! 

Spock grabbed McCoy’s body with the leap of passion which was erupting through him like a meteor across a fiery Vulcan sky. A mouth plastered to his could be ignored only so long. Besides, it was feeling so damn good to Spock, and he was amazed that he was having that reaction. But having it he was, and he wanted to keep on having it. Prudence be damned! Spock was enjoying this kissing, even if he wasn’t breathing properly.

The kiss might’ve continued on in this fashion, but McCoy noticed that Spock was growing lax in his arms. That was strange from a man with Spock’s strength. Then McCoy realized the problem. The Vulcan was passing out!

Damn, I’m good, McCoy thought. The Vulcan’s going under from the emotions I’ve stirred in him. Then McCoy realized that it wasn’t passion that was rendering Spock lifeless, but a lack of oxygen.

With a blasphemous mutter that included most of the Greek deities, McCoy broke the kiss, grabbed Spock’s arm, and hung onto him until Spock’s breathing evened out again. Spock did a lot of sputtering and deep breathing while he clung weakly to McCoy, but eventually his face began to green up again. 

“Why didn’t you say something?!” McCoy demanded.

“How?” Spock managed to gasp out. “I was rather… compromised.”

“Better?” the concerned doctor asked when Spock‘s face evened out into a healthier shade of green.

Spock nodded his head, but he still felt weak.

“Sorry. I didn’t know that you were dying on me. I thought that I was causing all of that thrashing around with you.”

“You were,” Spock said weakly as he tried to get used to the habit of breathing again. Odd, how you take something like breathing for granted. It seemed to be such a strange, reflexive action. It’s just something that’s always been there, like Aunt Sharon’s picture in the back parlor or that strange mole on the corner of her mouth. You don’t even think about breathing until you’re deprived of it. Then it becomes important as hell.

“I mean that I was causing all of your thrashing around in a good way, from my kiss,“ McCoy amended.

Spock wiped slobbers off his mouth and face. “There was too much stimulation all at once, Doctor. I could not judge anything clearly.”

“Sorry. I was trying to get my point across. And sometimes, you are hard to talk to. I had to get your attention however I could.” When he saw that breathing was not such a major struggle for Spock anymore and was becoming reflexive again, McCoy gently pulled his arms around Spock.

“Are you going to try to maul me again, Doctor?” Spock asked in a low voice. He appreciated McCoy’s support, because he was still a little unsteady on his feet. But he was too weak to fight further if McCoy wished to develop his theories.

McCoy grinned softly. “I won’t maul you. And that wasn’t my purpose the last time.” He gently touched his lips to Spock’s. “See? Hardly any angst at all this time.”

“I am happy for that.”

“Always have a come back, don’t you? And here all I‘d like to do is to give you some gentle caring, that‘s all.” He frowned. “I didn’t really hurt you, did I? That wasn’t my intention. I just want to be nice to you.”

“I know, Doctor.”

“Did you miss me, hmm? Did you ever look at Andreas and wish it was me?”

When Spock didn’t answer, McCoy knew that he had hit upon the truth.

“Love me back, Spock,” he moaned. “I know you want to.” 

McCoy pressed his lips against Spock’s again, but this time with a little more urgency. He was pleased when Spock’s arms snaked around his waist a moment later.

McCoy didn’t keep his promise about not mauling Spock. That kiss got a little more intense, from both parties, then McCoy broke it.

McCoy pressed his forehead against Spock’s and kneaded the tops of Spock’s shoulders. Spock kept his arms around McCoy’s waist.

“Oh, yeah, this is what I’ve wanted,” McCoy muttered. “You, me, in a clinch, everything out in the open. Intrigue has its place, but I wanna go onto the next step with you.” His right hand snaked up to the back of Spock’s neck where the dark hair was short and crisp to the touch. He‘d longed to rest his hand on those tiny hairs, and at last he was doing just that. “I’ve wanted you so much, Spock.” He felt his body answering his declaration. Surely, Spock could feel that nudge against his groin. Then McCoy felt an answering nudge from Spock and knew that their bodies were in harmony.

“Doctor--” Spock’s arm pulled McCoy closer and McCoy willingly went.

“Oh, Spock, I need to--” McCoy dove for Spock’s mouth again.

Spock was waiting with his own mouth open.

Tears squeezed out of McCoy’s closed eyes. Nobody interrupt us now, he threatened. If you do, you’re dead meat. 

And his hand on the back of Spock’s head guaranteed that the Vulcan was going nowhere.

But, somehow, still, Spock finally broke the kiss.

“No,” Spock declared firmly.

“What do you mean, no?! What‘s wrong now?!”

“I cannot do this.”

“What do you mean, you cannot do this?! You’re doing it! With no effort! Like an expert! You want me, Spock! You want me, just as much as I want you!”

“You are mistaken.”

“Your body’s not lying to me! It wants me!”

Spock pushed out of McCoy’s arms. “No. No.”

“Come on, Spock! I know you can feel what I’m doing to you! Admit it!”

“I cannot.”

“You’re lying if you’re saying that you can’t feel what I’m doing to you!”

“That is not what I meant.”

“What, then?”

“I could feel what you were doing to me. I meant that I cannot do what you want me to do. I cannot do the next step.”

“The hell you can’t! It’s the most natural thing in the universe! You just let feelings take over! Respond to me! That’s all you need to do! Give into your emotions! Good Ol‘ Mother Nature will do the rest!”

“That is what I cannot do.”

“Why? Because it’s me? Because we’ve had this other kind of relationship for so long? The bickering? The angst? The differences of opinion? Darlin,’ I don’t want to lose the fighting, either! We can still do all of that and still love each other! In fact, some people use it as a turn on!”

“A ‘turn on?’”

“It’s sexual tension, baby! It makes us hot for each other!”

McCoy never realized that green could go that deep and dusky of a color. It looked unhealthy. McCoy feared that Spock was having some sort of attack. It was a complete turnaround of what Spock had looked like only a few scant moments before with his equal paleness.

“Spock?” McCoy asked with concern as he touched Spock’s forearm. “Are you alright?”

“I find that I am quite embarrassed, Doctor.”

“Oh, well, if that’s all it is, I can get rid of that sort of thing real fast. I will make you relish what we can do to each other. I can make you sing songs that you never realized you even knew. I can make your body my instrument, and I will play you until you vibrate! Spock?! Spock! Stop that damn blushing! You look like a giant stalk of broccoli bursting with chlorophyll!”

But it was all happening too fast for Spock. To be assailed by so many conflicting emotions at once, when he had fought for so long to keep feelings at bay. He could not assimilate the data quickly enough. It was too much for him to handle.

“Doctor, I must ask you to desist with this line of conversation.”

“Desist?! With this line of conversation?! What the hell are you talking about?! It‘s me! McCoy! You‘re not testifying before a tribunal! It‘s me!”

But Spock turned away with hopes that he could gather together his erratic feelings with some sort of dignity and leave with some sort of prestige still in place. Also, he wanted to stop looking like a stalk of giant broccoli. That image wasn’t appealing, at all.

“Where are you going?!”

“I must… leave. I am… confused.”

“And I am tumescent! I think that kinda takes precedent over your confusion! You caused my problem, you know! I‘ve got a damn good imagination, but that‘ll never beat having a desirable body in my arms! And, Vulcan, you‘re hot stuff, in case nobody ever told you that before! And that buff body of yours could sure as hell take care of my problem! And stop blushing like that! All of the green vegetables in the universe will be jealous if you keep doing that! There's no way that they could possibly compete with that deep of color!”

“Doctor. I am sorry for your present state of arousal. I am sorry that I caused such stirrings inside you.”

“Forget me, since apparently you can! Don’t cheat yourself! All you have to do is take what is being offered you! What is the harm in doing that?!”

“I would cheat myself if I compromised my beliefs.”

“What?! What beliefs?! Celibacy?! You want to be celibate?! I can’t believe that’s a Vulcan belief! If it was, the Vulcans would’ve died out in one generation! Your people would be a footnote in intergalactic history, if that much! Don‘t look now, but somebody of your people is still doing the big nasty! There seem to be a few Vulcans still running around! And your parents always seemed pretty chummy with each other! That doesn‘t come from chatting in front of the fireplace for hours or taking long walks on the beach together, although it helps! That comes from doing the big nasty together! That comes from being intimate, like being butt naked with no clothes on! And if you think your parents didn‘t do that sort of thing together, then you‘re pretty stupid!”

“Doctor, I know that my parents engaged regularly in sexual practices. That was their choice. I, myself, do not wish to engage in sexual relations.”

“You’re liking that sexless relationship with Andreas, aren’t you?”

“It is less stressful because I know how your lusts drive you.” Spock had told the truth, but not the whole truth. Yes, Spock was less stressed around Andreas. But Spock was also bored out of his mind. That fact he did not tell McCoy. He was getting better with these fibs and half-truths. He may become a proficient liar yet, but he doubted it.

McCoy winced. “That’s how I seem to you, isn’t it? Someone who is in permanent heat?”

“Not only do you seem to be that way, Doctor; you are.”

“What an awful opinion you have of Earthlings.”

“I did not realize that they were that way until I had been among you. My father had warned me that you were a feeble race that was run by your emotions.”

“That’s prejudice.”

“That is fact. I did not prejudge any of you, and I did not let my father's viewpoints cloud my judgement, either. I have made my deductions from firsthand experience. You Earthlings have either just had, or are on your way to having, or are constantly thinking, about sex. From pubescence onward, you are driven by your sexual needs.”

“I expect that’s the way it must seem to someone who was never around Earthlings. Do you know what Vulcans seem like to us, then? Walking around like robots, ignorant of the other sex, until pon farr grabs you in its hold and won’t let go? To us, you seem like insane beings then. There is no reasoning with you. At least, Earthlings can still function while in the grips of our sexual drives. We can sleep, go to work, eat, relate to each other, even appear to Great Aunt Tilly without the fronts of our pants bulging out. Poor, old thing might think she’s stirring up the younger generation when it’s actually thoughts about the new yeoman in the laboratory that's got her young nephew in such a sorry state.”

“All of your talking will not change facts. I am leaving.”

“Running back to your emotionless Andreas?”

That gave Spock his cover. “Well, you have your Anton.”

McCoy narrowed his eyes. “You’re jealous?”

“That is what you would like, is it not?”

“Yes, you cold-blooded bastard! At least jealousy is something I can understand. Not this, this non-emotion! At least I am alive! I am experiencing emotion.”

“You are presenting my case, Doctor. I wish to have no need for your emotion.” Spock, you devil, you. You are getting good at this shading of innuendo and half-truths, aren't you? ‘Wish to need’ is nowhere close to ‘want.’ Spock could not in truth say that he did not want to need McCoy’s emotion. He wanted it; he just couldn’t let himself trust it.

“You make me glad that I am human and imperfect! I least I am not a machine!”

Spock looked haughty. “Good night, Doctor.” And without waiting for a reply, Spock left, satisfied.

“Run, you cold-blooded bastard,” McCoy muttered as he watched Spock walk quickly away. “You’ve just helped me make up my mind!”

 

“Do you know yet what you are going to do about choosing between Spock and the android?“

McCoy sighed. “Sometimes I think I do.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t.”

“I know it’s tough on you. I never meant it to turn out like this. I thought that the androids would help. It’s just made a mess of it.”

“You know I might leave for good over this, don’t you?”

Kirk grimaced. “Yeah, and I don’t blame you. You have to do what’s best for you. I’ll go by what you decide. What else could I do? I’m your friend first, then your captain.”

“Thanks, Jim, I appreciate your support.”

“You know that I’d hate to lose one of my top officers and advisors. You and Spock have made a helluva team for me. But I can understand why you can’t stay. You’ve gone through hell. You’ve suffered enough. You need to be happy, my friend. You deserve it.”

 

“So here we are, Andron,” McCoy said in dejection. “Here in this little woods on Narsarya B waiting to see how this all will play out. Just you and me and Anton over there.” 

“Are you satisfied with your decision?” Andron asked pleasantly.

“I’m here, aren’t I?! Sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you. It isn‘t your fault.“

“It is understandable.“

McCoy studied Andron, then he said wistfully, “Why can’t I be happy with someone like you? Why don’t I want someone who is kind and considerate and placates me and is nurturing? Why must I turn away from somebody like you and continually hurt myself?“

“Some things cannot always be understood, Doctor. Your heart knows what it wants.“

“Stupid heart,“ McCoy muttered. He nodded toward where the Spock duplicate stood beneath a tree branch and stared docilely ahead. “What’s Anton doing, anyway? Memorizing that leaf that’s waving just in front of his nose? If he stares at that flickering leaf too much, it'll put him to sleep or hypnotize him." McCoy frowned. "Really, what's his problem? He hasn‘t said anything since we got here.”

“You know that is Anton’s nature, Dr. McCoy. He is doing nothing, not until someone activates him by speaking directly to him.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. He just looks like I imagine Spock would look like after a lobotomy. I wouldn’t like that, either,” McCoy muttered to himself.

“I thought that you Earthlings were unusually quiet on the shuttle ride down and on the way to our positions here on the surface,” Andron noted. “I thought that the three of you were friends. I expected to hear some of your famous camaraderie.”

“Well, we used to be friends,” McCoy answered. “I’m not totally certain what any of us are to each other anymore.”

“Pity.”

McCoy had to change the subject. “So Kirk and Spock and Andreas are in the woods on the other side of the clearing in front of us?”

“I just spoke with Captain Kirk. They are ready, any time we are.”

“So, when Spock and I decide, then everyone goes away, about their business as usual?”

“That is correct, Doctor,” Andron replied pleasantly. He was now in familiar criteria. Sometimes the Earthlings talked in a type of abbreviated language that was not very consistent, but now this conversation corresponded to his programmed information.

“We just have to make a decision.”

“That is correct. Have you reached one?”

McCoy seemed to deflate. “Well, I know that I implied to Spock that I was choosing Anton, but I can’t do it. I was angry at the time, and defensive. To have to make a decision now saddens me. Neither choice feels right.”

“Why, Doctor?” Andron’s face was quizzical. “I thought that you would look upon this as an opportunity to have better working conditions and easier personal relationships. Staying with Anton should be a relief.”

“And I thought that I’d jump on that opportunity, but now I can’t. Spock and I fight constantly. We don’t agree on anything. He frustrates the hell out of me. But I still pick him. Because we entertain each other. There is no one else in the universe who is quite like him, and I would miss what I’m grown accustomed to being around. Anton is perfect for me. He’s interested in the same things I am. We are in complete agreement. But still. I. Choose. Spock. He might not choose me. And maybe I’m crazy. Maybe he and I will never agree on anything. But my choice is still with him.” McCoy glanced at Andron with a bittersweet smile on his face. “Does that make any sense to you?”

“It does not have to make sense to me. I am programmed to be agreeable to you whatever you decide and to bring the other androids to you. I cannot pass judgment on anybody’s actions.”

“That’s something that Anton would say, too. I realize now that I don’t want someone who agrees with me constantly. What would be the challenge in that? The fun? No, I’m too human and too erratic to want something static. I would get BORED. As aggravating as he is, I pick him.”

“Then you will step into the clearing. If you see yourself, or, I should say, your duplicate, then you will know that Spock has sent it as a messenger to tell you that he has chosen Andreas.” Andron smiled pleasantly. 

McCoy couldn‘t stand the suspense. “You know the both of us by now. Who do you think that Spock will choose?”

“My dear Dr. McCoy, it makes no difference to me. I am merely doing my job.”

“That is not what I asked--”

“That is the only answer you will receive from me,” Andron said more firmly. “I am not programmed to make rational decisions or even to give emotional responses. That is in Spock’s arena to do, and yours. Nothing else is my duty.”

Although the android smiled, the coldness of his words pierced McCoy in his heart. Surely, Spock would not prefer an android’s perpetual coldness over an erratic, exasperating, yet interesting Earthling? Wouldn’t Spock want some color in his life?

“You are quite certain of your choice, Dr. McCoy?”

Yes, you coldhearted bastard, McCoy thought.

“Yes, Mr. Andron, I am,” he answered cordially, instead. In a way, he had a role to play, the same as the androids did.

“Then you will go to see now whom Spock has chosen,” Andron said.

“This might not go so well for me,” McCoy said with trepidation. 

“You do not have faith in Spock?”

“He’s logical. Why should he ever choose to stay with me as aggravating as I am? Sure, I can see me staying. I’m romantic enough. But him? He most certainly could use this opportunity to bail.”

“I am certain that he is thinking logically now, Doctor.”

Yeah, that’s what had McCoy worried, too, he thought, as he tried to swallow away the lump in his throat.

McCoy had no idea what awaited him on the other side of the clearing. But he knew that his life, and his heart, depended upon it.


	13. The Meaning Of The Pendant

McCoy walked away from the protection of the trees and the somewhat company of the androids. They hadn‘t been much, but at least they had felt like something on his side. This stepping out by himself brought home to McCoy just how alone he was. 

A figure seemed to disconnect itself from the trees across from McCoy. Then the hooded figure stood on the far side of the clearing with its back turned away. 

Damn that Andron! He had staged this reveal as dramatically as he could, apparently. McCoy figured that Andron had been a star pupil at the William Shatner School of Acting.

The person turned, drew the hood down to his shoulders, and it was Spock.

McCoy grinned as relief washed through him. “Mr. Spock! You chose me, after all! It‘s nice to know that you finally admit to appreciating me! I must say, though, that it is highly illogical of you.”

Spock began walking toward McCoy. “On the contrary, Dr. McCoy. You did what to me seemed highly logical for you to do. You chose rashly and sentimentally, because you are so highly illogical. I did not wish to embarrass you, so I went along with what I deduced that you would do. It appears that I was correct with my assumptions.”

“You chose because you thought that I would choose irrationally?! Why? So you could keep torturing me longer?!”

“Why can you not believe that I would prefer the status quo over an android? I require more of a challenge than what Andreas has presented. You are so predictable, but he was so boring.” Spock shrugged. “Not much of a choice, but a choice, nonetheless.”

“You chose me because I am the lesser evil?! I am the one who amuses you more?!”

“You need to look at the situation differently, Doctor,“ Spock said with a look of smugness on his face. “Now you have more chances at winning me. Surely that should please you.”

“And the game continues?!” McCoy demanded with rising horror.

“It is your game, Doctor. Your rules. It seems to amuse you, so play away.”

“You’re taking the glamour off yourself with every word you speak, you know!”

“Really, Dr. McCoy, why are you carrying on so? You got what you wanted, didn’t you? I am back in your life. But now the game has changed somewhat. I am simply letting you know the new rules. As you would say with your quaint idiom, I am laying my cards on the table. There will be no illusions for you to misinterpret.” 

“Somehow, I think I like the cushion of illusion that has always protected me from the brutal truth. I‘d like it to continue, an agreement between gentlemen.”

“I know you would. That is the way that I always assumed that it would be, but you beginning changing the paradigms of our relationship by accosting me with your embraces and your kisses. So I am stating my rules if a continued relationship between us is going to be feasible.”

“That is only if I choose to continue a relationship.”

Spock nearly smirked. “Doctor, for you, there is no question. You will continue to try to win me until there is no breath left in your body.”

McCoy‘s smile collapsed, and fire shot out of his eyes. “Let me choose over! I’ll take anything over you! Vultures in the sky who think that my body looks like prime carrion would be kinder to me! The tides pounding the beaches senseless twice a day would be a relief! Rocks in the desert facing scouring winds would suffer less than I do! Any of those punishments would be preferable to your heartless behavior!”

Spock stopped in front of McCoy and studied him calmly as McCoy continued to rant. That only made McCoy angrier and more frustrated. He’d like to wipe that smugness off that haughty face, but the Vulcan was stronger. McCoy’s only weapons were his words and his absence. Right now, he was going to make certain that Spock heard an earful.

“At least I would know where I stood with any of those!” McCoy continued. “I would have no illusions about their feelings! They’re out for themselves, and everyone knows it from the start! They could not kill me in my heart, because none of them would ever give me any hope that my feelings might someday be returned.”

“And I have given you hope that I might someday return your tender feelings for me? When and how have I ever done that?”

Tears sprang into McCoy’s eyes. “Never!” he whispered. “But I’m some kind of crazy fool, because I keep hoping. I keep hoping that my feelings alone are enough to sustain a relationship between us.”

“And what might I do to convince you otherwise?”

“I don’t know. You’re doing a pretty good job of it right now, though. After going through what we’ve just gone through with my leaving and then the androids, I would have hoped that you would have been convinced that there could be a more personal relationship between us.” He pursed his lips. “But I can see that it hasn’t.”

“I am happy that you are beginning to realize that.”

“But what you are not understanding, what you are never going to be able to understand, is why I keep hoping.”

“I have wondered that. It is illogical for you to keep up such hope.”

“Because I have no other choice.”

Spock raised an eyebrow.

“I know it doesn’t make sense to you. Because love doesn’t always make sense. We don’t choose whom we will love. It’s an erratic, sometime thing, as haphazard as which minnow a fish will snap at and grab.”

“Such a selection indeed follows the path of chaos.”

“You’ve got that right! Do you think that I would have ever picked you if I‘d had any choice in the matter?” 

“And you did not have a choice?” Spock asked with some wonder, himself.

“None,“ McCoy answered. “And I’ll never be happy without you or with anyone else. Now you know what a man looks like who’s put himself in his own private hell.“

Spock had no answer for that, except to frown.

“And that says it all.” McCoy shrugged. “Well, I’ll be on my way. Goodbye, Mr. Spock, it’s been an experience knowing you.”

Spock frowned. “Where are you going? Back to the Enterprise?”

“No, Mr. Spock. I’ve had enough. I can see now that my only clear choice is to leave the Enterprise for good. I suppose I‘ve finally had my fill.”

Spock had heard it all before, but McCoy seemed different this time. “You are leaving?”

“Yes, and I won’t be so easily found this time.”

“You wanted to be found the first time?”

McCoy smirked. “Of course. That’s how I was found so easily. You aren’t that great of a detective, Spock. I just made it difficult enough to be intriguing. I wanted to see if anyone was interested enough in me to search for me. I left a trail that anybody could have followed. If I’d really have wanted to disappear, I would’ve grabbed the next flight from Narsarya B, no matter where it was headed. It was easy for Scotty and the others to find me. They must’ve heard about my whereabouts at some other bar and hunted me up. Then they told you where I was.”

Spock frowned. It was not supposed to happen this way. McCoy was not supposed to leave. He was always supposed to be near Spock, but safely at a distance and following Spock’s rules. Why did the aggravating Earthling keep trying to make the rules and try to make Spock into something he didn’t want to be? Did Spock not have the right to protect himself?

Spock had decided to lay down some safeguards to protect himself, because it had suddenly become important to put restraints not only on McCoy, but on himself. Ever since he had found McCoy wet and shivering in the transporter room, it had been harder for Spock not to give into McCoy’s advances. He found that he had been liking the kissing from Dr. McCoy, but he could not let the doctor know that. To Spock, it would be admitting to a weakness, not to a joy. McCoy would then have some power over him, and Spock did not want to relinquish any power. If only Spock could be trusting.

Spock wanted McCoy hopeful and hungering and off balance. McCoy could not be those things if he disappeared forever. Spock had to gamble by exposing one of his defenses. 

“Mr. Scott did not tell me of your whereabouts, Doctor. I told Mr. Scott.”

A grin tickled McCoy‘s lips. “You did?”

“Yes.”

“Well, thanks for that much.” He turned away.

Spock could not let McCoy leave. He had to keep McCoy talking until Spock could spot a crack in McCoy‘s thinking and convince him to stay. Spock would imprison McCoy in a web of words and logic, then life could go on as normal.

“Where will you go?” Spock asked.

McCoy glanced back. “I don’t know yet. I’ve got the whole wide universe out there to choose from. I’ll find a spot somewhere.” His smile was ironic. “I’ll build another life. In time.” He looked critically at Spock. “And it sure as hell won’t have another cold hearted Vulcan in it. I’ve had enough of those to last me ten lifetimes,” he muttered to himself as he turned to go again. It had done him some good to see Spock cringe at his words.

“Wait.”

“Yes?”

“What will I tell Jim?”

“Jim knew that this might be my decision. He won’t be surprised.”

“He will not?”

“No. In fact, he encouraged me. Well, what he said was that he would abide with my decision. He doesn’t want his Enterprise crew split up. Especially his top officers and closest friends. But he could understand why I’d leave. He thought that I’d had enough punishment, too.”

“What if I do not abide by your decision to leave?”

That got a grin out of McCoy. “Well, now, Mr. Spock, you don’t have any say in the matter. You aren’t my commanding officer. At the moment you are; true. Because Jim isn’t here. But there are some things that can’t be legislated. Or controlled. Or ordered. Governments found that out a long time ago. Morality. Equality.” He grimaced. “Love.” He turned aside. “Here’s your golden opportunity to get rid of me. Just think of how happy that will make you.”

“That will not make me happy.”

“Of course not! What was I thinking! Nothing makes you happy, does it?! But by the same token, nothing makes you sad, either.”

“I do not want you to leave. I would be sad to see you go.”

“Why? Because your world will be disrupted? Frankly, Mr. Spock, I don’t give a hill of beans about the stability of your world. That doesn’t interest me anymore.”

“You have taken up the practice of lying?”

“Why not?! I’m not Vulcan! I can tell as many lies as I want, and my world will not crumble at my feet!”

“But your world is crumbling at your feet now. You are losing everything.”

“Sometimes it is worth it!” Tears smarted at McCoy’s eyes. “It will be worth it to be rid of you!”

Spock quickly covered the cringe. “There you are, lying again.”

“What makes you so damn certain that I am lying?!”

“Because you care for me. You are concerned about me. You hope that I will prosper. You will only feel good if you know that I exist somewhere in the universe, preferably wherever you are.”

“Yeah. I suppose you’re right. So, what should I do about it?”

“Stay with the Enterprise.”

“And suffer in silence.”

“However you wish.”

“Just so your world keeps going on an even keel.”

“You could keep going with your campaign to win me. It is not all hopeless for your case, you know.”

“I don’t know how else I am supposed to look at it.”

Spock took a deep breath and made an illogical decision, but one that he knew would be good. “Why would I want you to stay?”

McCoy shrugged. “Like I just said, so your world keeps going on an even keel. And like you said, you like the status quo.”

“I have other reasons.”

“Oh?” McCoy smirked, wondering what new way Spock would torture him. “Tell me about your other reasons. I’m sure I will be amused.”

“No. I am certain that you will be pleased.” He could see McCoy skepticism. “Doctor. Repeat back to me why I said you were lying, and you will know what my true feelings are for you.”

McCoy fought back into his memory, and then the words came easily from his lips. “Because you care for me. You are concerned about me. You hope that I will prosper. You will only feel good if you know that I exist somewhere in the universe, preferably wherever you are.” McCoy looked up with a stunned face. “Are you lying to me, Vulcan?!”

“I cannot lie, Leonard. You should know that by now.”

“But, but, but, it can’t be true! You’re saying that you love me, too!”

Spock shrugged his shoulders. “If that is that you think I intended, then that is what I intended.”

“Can I trust you, Vulcan?” McCoy asked with skepticism.

“Jim Kirk said that you might not believe me. You are not the only one to share secrets of the heart with Jim. He knew about my interest in you since you returned from that dunking in the alien lake. When you did not immediately respond to my interest when I thought you that is what you had always wanted, Jim advised me about your self-esteem issues.”

“Jim betrayed my trust?!”

“Since it involved me and he was trying to make me understood, he thought that he should explain. He was trying to help both of us.”

“Well, alright, you did have the right to know.”

“Jim said that one of your safeguards is choosing the last logical person to love because that person would be the least logical person to love you in return. I am such a novice when it comes to relationships. But I knew one thing. I knew how I felt.“

“If you’ve felt this way about me, how could you be so callous all of those times I was kissing you?! Why didn‘t you give in and love me?!“

“I had to protect myself, Leonard. We both have trust issues, I fear. We both need to believe what could be ours, and maybe then we can be greater than our doubts.”

“I’m having believability issues right now. This is all a little farfetched, like a smoke screen you’ve put up just to make me stay.”

“I knew that you would have difficulty believing me. That is why I wrote it down and gave it to you a long time ago. You have had ample proof all of this time about my feelings for you, and you have not acknowledged it.”

“What?! I don’t believe you!”

“There it is again. You have forgotten again that I cannot lie.”

“If that is true that you wrote it down and gave it to me, where is it?”

“On the necklace I gave to you.”

“This?” McCoy pulled the medallion from under his shirt. “You gave one to Jim, too. Do you love him, also?” McCoy asked lightly, just managing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“I love Jim. But I am not in love with him.”

“And you are in love?”

“Yes.”

“With me?”

“Yes.”

McCoy sputtered.

“What? You do not believe me, Doctor?”

“Why should I?!”

“Because it is true.”

“If I said the same thing to you, would you believe me?”

“Yes.”

“That isn’t proof! I’m always saying it!”

“That is a fact.”

“But, you do not want my love.”

“That is what you believe.”

“That is what you have always led me to believe!” McCoy looked frustrated. “You’ve given me damn good proof to the contrary!”

“I have given you proof that I do.”

“Where?!” McCoy pulled the chain up. “On this locket?! All that is on it is a bunch of squiggles.”

“The squiggles say something.”

“The squiggles do not! They are just squiggles!”

“Look closer.”

McCoy glanced down, but quickly up again. “I did. Still squiggles.”

“You are not looking closely enough.”

“And I suppose you are! Well, tell me what the squiggles say, then!”

But Spock did not need to look. He could recite it all from heart. “Across the top, it says, ‘One perfect love.’ And across the bottom is says ‘Forever.’”

“And what is in the center?”

“My heart.”

McCoy stared at the earnest face, then he turned away with a snort. A quick glance had shown him only squiggles.

“What did you see, Doctor?”

“Nothing!”

That was not the way it was supposed to work. McCoy was supposed to believe enough to see the words and his beating heart. Spock felt uncomfortable. McCoy was not telling him the truth. McCoy had to believe.

“You saw something,” Spock insisted.

“Squiggles! I saw squiggles!”

“You have to believe, Leonard. And then the squiggles will be what your heart desires. You have to trust that I have given my heart to you a long time ago, although I did not realize it myself. Trust. You must learn to trust. Then do what your heart tells you to do.”

“My heart is getting jaded, Vulcan.” Tears stung at his eyelids. “You’ve pulled this doubletalk on me too many times. I want this relationship with you so badly, and you seem to take a savage delight in teasing me about it. I can’t take much more of this. It hurts me too much.”

Spock was back on familiar ground. He felt so insecure in relationships that he had to have the upper hand, especially with McCoy. “It has always hurt you. But you will never stop hoping. With your dying breath, you will check the locket to see if the words are there.”

“And even then, you won’t return my feelings, will you?” He stared at Spock. “How could I think so little of myself to keep hoping? It‘s high time that I start getting some respect for myself, isn‘t it?” He reached up and ripped the chain and locket from around his neck. 

Spock’s mouth dropped open and he frowned. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not waiting until the time that I’m dying. I’m giving this back now. I might as well. I’m dead inside, anyway.” He thrust the locket and chain into Spock’s hand and turned away.

“But, but, you must have this pendant with you!”

“Why? So you can keep on tracing me?”

“You knew about that?” Spock asked in amazement.

“I figured as much. That’s how you knew where I was on Narsarya B, wasn’t it? You know, you could’ve let Jim in on your little secret, so he wouldn’t have worried so much. Then, you wouldn’t have appeared to be so callous to him, either, when you didn’t seem very worried about me. You know, I thought that Scotty and the others had found me and told you. But it was the other way around, wasn’t it? You told him. I just let you think I believed the other truth.”

“You are so erratic. When I came to care for you, I thought that I would have less to worry about if I at least knew your location.”

“You really don’t know about love, do you? What you’re talking about with this pendant verges on control. That isn’t what love is.” He gave Spock a pitiful, sorrowful look. “Oh, my dear Vulcan. How much we could have had. If only.” He turned and walked into the woods.

Spock stood petrified. If he had had one constant in this world, it was that McCoy would always be there to be teased and harassed. It made Spock feel superior to make McCoy feel so inferior. It gave Spock security. And Spock knew that he could only get by with it because McCoy thought that he deserved no better treatment. They were parasites on each other. But also, parasites to each other.

What would Spock do without McCoy in his world to define him? Spock realized that he needed McCoy, just after Spock had convinced McCoy that he never would need him. But McCoy had to stay! What would Spock do without McCoy?!

Why had Spock never realized any of this before? Why did it take McCoy finally walking away to convince Spock that he needed McCoy? 

Spock needed to find a way to make McCoy stay, even if Spock could not admit to needing McCoy.

Spock needed McCoy in his life. There was no greater truth in the universe for Spock. It didn’t get any more basic than that.

And now McCoy was gone. But Spock had the locket. It had lain next to McCoy’s flesh in the hopes that Spock would finally come to him. But Spock would not give McCoy that satisfaction. And now that Spock knew that he wanted it to be true, McCoy was gone. True, Spock had the locket. But what good is a locket without the love to go with it? What good is anything without the love to go with it? 

How stupid was Spock, anyway, to throw away love? Love that would have been gladly and gratefully given by McCoy had now been forever taken away. Maybe that was the problem. Spock had not had to work for McCoy’s love, and now he did.

Spock, younger than McCoy and a Vulcan whose life span was longer than an Earthling’s, would outlive McCoy. All of those years without McCoy until he himself died would be an eternity to endure. Maybe that was what McCoy had been trying to spare Spock.

They could have had time together. They could have had something together. But now Spock had deprived himself of even those memories.

Hell! Forget the memories! He wanted McCoy! He needed McCoy! And he knew down deep that McCoy still needed and wanted him. Because McCoy loved with a love that was big. McCoy’s love for Spock would not die easily.

If only Spock could believe that! If only McCoy still loved him!

Doctor, come back to me! If you love me, come back to me!

Nothing answered. McCoy was gone.

Spock would have to settle for the locket that had lain next to McCoy’s heart for so long. Spock wanted to believe that love was still there for him in that locket. It would be all he would have of McCoy. Because now Spock believed in McCoy and in his love. Spock wanted those two things with all his heart that truly belonged to McCoy.

Spock absently lifted the locket to his eyes, and froze. He could not believe what he was seeing. The squiggles formed just exactly what he had told McCoy they would.

One perfect love was written across the top.

Forever was written across the bottom.

And in the center was Spock’s heart, faintly beating. But beating, because love was giving it life.

No wonder Spock had always been so heartless to McCoy. Spock really had given his heart to McCoy on the locket just as he always said he had. And that had left Spock with none.

And his heart still belonged to McCoy. The locket must go back to McCoy, or Spock’s heart would die.

“Wait!” Spock went crashing into the woods after McCoy. “Doctor, wait!”

And miracle of miracles, McCoy was just ahead of him!

McCoy turned. “What do you want, Vulcan? Go away. I’m leaving.”

“The locket! It said what I said it would!”

“So? You didn’t want it to, did you?”

“But, but, but it was not supposed to! For me!”

“I trusted. I believed. And it came true. For you. That’s irony for you. You finally believed it would happen, and it did. You have the greater faith, after all.”

“But you always wanted it to be true.”

“I did.”

“But you did not see!”

“I did not.”

“Then, how--”

McCoy understood it now, but he didn‘t know if he wanted to get excited about it. “When you trusted and believed also, the words appeared. It took two of us to believe.”

“But, but, but I did not believe. I did not trust.”

“Something in you did, because it made the words appear. And whether you and I like it or not, that means that you love me, too.”

“I cannot do without you, Leonard.”

“I know.” McCoy’s smile was bitter. “Hell, isn’t it?”

“Is that love, Leonard? Not wanting to do without someone?”

“That’s part of it. Well, all of it, I guess. You’ll be miserable if I’m not in your life. That’s just good old Mother Nature doing her handiwork again. Making us need each other. Otherwise, we‘ll feel like walking around kicking cute puppies and snapping lovely blossoms off flowering plants.”

“I do not know if I like this, Leonard.”

“I’m not too sure if I do, either, but there it is.”

“Where?” Spock asked, looking around mystified. “Where is it?”

McCoy smiled sadly. “Why would I ever want to give that up?”

“Hmm?” Spock asked. He was getting very disconcerted again.

“I give up, Vulcan. You’ve got me back. I’m yours.”

“You do not seem all that happy about that outcome.”

“I really don’t have much choice. There’s a reason why they call it falling in love. The participants don‘t have much control.“

“It is not bringing you much happiness.“

“Oh, I’ll be happy. Actually, I’ll be contended. That’s what I’ll be. Contended. Whether we love each other or can barely tolerate each other doesn’t seem to be the point. We were meant to be together, and I think that we better stop fighting our fate. As they say, it‘s bigger than the two of us. We just may not be together the way I want us to be.”

“I want to return your necklace to you, Doctor, as soon as I can get the chain fixed.”

“And I will be pleased to wear it again. Thank you.”

“I can tell that you believe nothing has changed.”

“That’s because it hasn’t.”

“The words were on the locket, Leonard. I saw them. I believe now. And I believe that you and I are fated to be together.”

“Just not as lovers,” McCoy smirked.

“We will see what the locket says. It knows the truth about us.”

“Well, there goes that hope!”

“Leonard, you are not believing again.”

“And you are?!”

“Yes,” Spock stated adamantly.

McCoy studied Spock levelly. He was seeing something different in the Vulcan’s eyes. Something that gave him encouragement.

Something that gave him hope.

Something that almost made him believe again.

“Let’s do see what the locket says about it!” McCoy suggested and felt the old eagerness overtaking him, despite what common sense was yelling at him. Yeah, he was setting himself up for another fall, but what else was new? He had to be around the Vulcan, so promises and maybes were better than nothing. What else did he have to live for, if not that?

A pleased grin began to curl along Spock’s lips. He already knew what the locket would say. Maybe love would enable McCoy to see the tender words at last. If only McCoy had faith and belief just one more time. Spock realized that he didn’t deserve for that to happen. He really didn’t deserve such happiness, not after all of the pain he had caused McCoy with his hesitation. But now he really wanted it all to be true.

Maybe if both of them believed, then the miracle would happen.

Spock knew he would see the magic words appear again for him. That would be no problem.

But now he just had to make sure that McCoy could see them, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow love, and it will flee.  
> Flee, and it will follow thee.


	14. I Am Not Prone To Argue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the late Mae West for the use of one of her famous quotes for the title of this chapter.
> 
> This is a bonus chapter because we deserve a reward for all the angst that we've suffered with Spock and McCoy. It may not be as sweet and syrupy as I'd promised Esperata, but it will definitely be a welcomed relief for all that we have experienced in this fic.

“You must see the words on the pendant, Doctor,” Spock urged. It was so important that McCoy see the words, also. “If we both believe, then they will be there.”

“Yes, they are,” McCoy said slowly. 

Spock released the breath he had been holding and beamed.

And McCoy felt like a heel. For he had lied. He stole another glance at the pendant. Still squiggles. All that he was seeing were squiggles on the pendant, but he was certainly not going to tell the Vulcan that. Not when Spock was looking at him with almost childish glee and delight. Damn it, the Vulcan was wanting this thing between them to work out, too! That should help McCoy to see a definite pattern in those curlicues.

He sighed inwardly. Still squiggles.

“I would like to kiss you now, Doctor, to show you what I really think of you.“ His eyes got positively mischievous. “And to show you that I can give you a loving kiss.”

McCoy’s eyes snapped to attention. Hell, yes! Now we’re talking! Forget the damn squiggles! Let’s get to the kissing part! 

Spock saw McCoy’s sudden eagerness as McCoy perked up, and McCoy smiled not only with his lips but with his eyes. Spock didn’t know where McCoy had got for a moment, but he was certainly back again.

Spock nearly laughed with that show of eagerness and consent. His own eyes were twinkling as his hands settled on McCoy‘s shoulders. “I am not angry this time, and I promise that I will not abuse you. I want to show you what I really think about you.”

Spock did not have to pull very hard to bring McCoy toward him. At this point, the only resistance McCoy would have put up is if Spock would have tried to push him away. At this point, of course, Spock certainly didn’t wish to be pushing McCoy away. It was one of the few things that they have ever agreed upon doing, and the results were fantastically agreeable to both of them.

Spock gently rested his closed lips on McCoy’s lips. Spock wanted McCoy to know how much he treasured McCoy. And for a few sacred moments, that’s all that the kiss and Spock’s impersonal body were telling McCoy. The only parts of Spock that were touching McCoy were his lips on McCoy’s mouth and his hands that were resting on McCoy’s shoulders.

Then, realization struck McCoy. Spock was kissing him. At long last. Nicely. And because Spock wanted to kiss him. 

Those facts set off all sorts of sensory spots in McCoy’s mind and especially McCoy’s body.

McCoy grabbed Spock’s elbows and pulled Spock against him. Spock released McCoy’s shoulders, pulled his arms around McCoy, and embraced McCoy. McCoy’s hands released Spock’s elbows, snaked under the elbows, and trailed up Spock’s back to crash against Spock’s massaging hands. McCoy moaned against Spock’s mouth to let Spock know that he appreciated what those lips and hands were doing to him. Then McCoy decided to do some massaging of his own. Apparently, Spock liked the combination of what McCoy was doing because he began moaning, too. And, damn, wasn’t that a whimper out of the Vulcan?! Damn, you’re good, McCoy!

This was more like it! 

Surely, now, McCoy would see those magic words of “One Perfect Love Forever.” Surely, they light up the forest and turn the twilight of the deep forest into the blazing hotness of a barren desert floor. Surely, now, McCoy would see what he was meant to see, what Spock wanted him to see, what he was destined to see.

Stars, lots of stars, whole galaxies of comets streaking across the heavens, falling stars burning themselves out in some planet’s atmosphere, asteroids hurtling along without any purpose except to make an appearance. Squiggles. Damn it, thousands of squiggles, but still no magic words emblazoned itself before McCoy’s eyes with a choir of unseen angels singing one note of fulfillment and surprise. Squiggles everywhere, tumbling around, playing tag with the other mischief makers out there, the asteroids. The squiggles were not behaving themselves, gaining a somber maturity, and forming the pledge making words of “One Perfect Love Forever.”

McCoy tried. Damn it, he tried. He squinted. He mentally strained his whole system. He gave it his best. No one three days constipated could have been straining harder. At this rate, he would achieve the impossible and lay an egg. That ought to impress the Vulcan. Bet no one on Vulcan could do that! And Vulcans thought that they could do anything! Just let them try to lay--

“Doctor?” Spock could not believe that McCoy’s attention span was so short at a time like this. McCoy wasn’t that old that his mind was wandering, already. Spock certainly hoped that he could hold McCoy’s interest when they finally got to a place private enough for Spock to demonstrate to McCoy the extent and depth of his feelings. An arched eyebrow imperceptibly moved. Spock would be only be happy, and eager, to perform those duties. He wouldn’t mind doing it now. In fact, he was mentally, and physically, ready if that activity in his lower regions was any indication. But the idea that Kirk and three androids were watching persuaded Spock to curtail any intimate activities with him and the good doctor. Of course, the androids could watch an orphanage full of screaming children burn down without rushing to aid in whatever way they could. Indeed, the androids would never lose their placid looks while death and pleading raged around them.

“Spock?”

“Hmm?” Spock looked at McCoy and saw that McCoy was frowning.

“Where did you go?”

Spock’s mouth dropped open. HIS mind had wandered! What was going on?!

“What were you thinking about, Spock?”

Spock could not tell McCoy what he had really been thinking. He said the first thing that popped into his head. 

“I believe that we could catch up with Captain Kirk and the androids if we hurry.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, more like a fib, actually. He was getting better at justifying these half-truths. Soon, he would be lying like a used rocket ship salesman.

“That’s it?! A kiss?!”

Oh, no! Leonard that the surly look back on his face! Time for some fancy footwork, although Spock did not understand how the agility of his feet would get him out of this sudden predicament. What he needed was agility with his words! What he needed was more fibs! And fast!

He managed to look demure. “Doctor. We cannot get too involved here in this forest clearing. I wish to get you into my quarters aboard the Enterprise so I can show you what I really think of you.”

McCoy’s face instantly cleared. “Now you’re talking!” He grabbed Spock’s hand, and Spock winced. Something in Spock’s nether regions gave a leap, and Spock figured he knew what it had been. It stared with an ‘p’ and ended with an ‘s’.

“Spock? What’s wrong? You winced and then you went away somewhere again. You might have to do something about that mind wandering problem.”

Spock slid his sensory-alerted hand up to McCoy’s elbow and got it away from McCoy’s stimulating hand. “Come, Doctor. Let us hurry before they beam up. We can all go back together the same way we came.”

McCoy gave him a languid look. “Okay, but it won’t be as much fun as if we would stay here.”

Spock’s hand kept urging McCoy forward. Spock knew that if they stayed in the forest glade now, they might never want to leave. The charms of lovemaking and of the accommodating planet of Narsarya B would never let them go. And as tempting as that all sounded, the two men had lives they had to resume. 

Only now, they could resume those lives together.

 

Kirk was glad to see them together, but puzzled, too, as Spock and McCoy caught up with Kirk and the androids.

“Is everything okay with you guys?”

“Yes, Captain,” Spock answered, then remembered to let his hand drop from McCoy’s elbow.

“Yeah, Jim. Just fine. Just peachy, in fact. Can we, ah, get this show on the road, hmm? I’m kinda in a hurry to get back to the Enterprise, if that’s alright with you.”

Now what, Kirk wondered. McCoy was acting excited, but frustrated. That was never a good combination, especially for McCoy. But certainly a familiar one.

Kirk’s diplomatic self appeared and he smiled benignly. He’s just ignore McCoy’s contradictory mood and act like McCoy was the most pleasant person he’d encountered today. “Gentlemen, I believe that our shuttlecraft awaits us.”

“Damn good thing, that’s all I can say! Come along, Spock! Don’t dwaddle!”

Kirk could have sworn that Spock gave McCoy a tolerant look.

Something definitely was up, Kirk surmised. He figured that McCoy would be jubilant that Spock had chosen him. At least, a truce seemed to be in effect between Spock and McCoy.

For now.

 

The lights in Spock’s quarters were set at ten percent, but it was a wonder that Spock had managed to give that voice command. As soon as Spock’s door had whooshed shut behind them, McCoy was all over him.

“Leonard.” Gulp. “You really must let me breathe.” Cough. It felt like a startled octopus had fallen on him and was trying to gain purchase on his head and shoulders. How many hands did McCoy have, again? It felt like at least eight, but maybe there were more.

“I’ll give you choices, Vulcan!” McCoy snapped with hard eyes. “In your bed, or on this floor, this spot, right now.”

“Well, I--”

“Take off your clothes, or I’ll rip them off you. Your choice.”

While the prospect of McCoy removing Spock’s clothing was delicious to consider, discretion told Spock that McCoy would not be too gentle or careful in his present state.

“I will, on my way to my bed. As I always do,” Spock added so a note of sanity could enter into the conversation.

“You’re wasting time with words!”

Spock started stripping his tunic over his head as his legs suddenly came back to life and headed toward his unsuspecting bed.

The bed learned its fate as two bodies suddenly landed in the middle of it and commenced a fertilization dance amongst its bedclothes that had never been conducted in that sacred resting site before. There was a lot of pawing and grunting and torn clothing being thrown, despite their best efforts to be careful in the intensity of the moment. 

It was all that Spock could do to get himself and McCoy lined up for proper coitus. Not that McCoy wasn’t trying to help. But he was so eager that he was clumsy. It was almost comical, but Spock figured that he would spoil the sacredness of what they were doing if he laughed. But it was reaching nearly farce levels. It was ridiculous the way that a comedy of errors proceeded their first blessed union. For it really wasn’t a thing of beauty. Not with all the intense emotion behind it. Maybe later they could achieve finesse and caring and loving. Right now, they were both driven by the intense need to experience coitus together. 

Spock figured that as emotionally charged as McCoy was to be finally having sex together that McCoy would climax like an elephant in heat. He also figured that McCoy would scream. Spock secretly was hoping that McCoy screamed Spock’s name at the top of his lungs. Spock certainly was planning on bellowing “Doctor!” as loudly as he could. It would be sealing their love between them.

McCoy was gasping and writhing, moaning and cursing, twisting the bedding into a horrendous mess. But Spock allowed all of McCoy’s emotions and contortions. After the grueling journey that McCoy had taken to get to this sexual act, Spock was not going to deprive McCoy of a thing. Besides, Spock doubted that he could contain McCoy’s actions. The way McCoy was rooting around and throwing his limbs about, they would be lucky if the bedding was ripped and torn. As it was, it was bound to be soaked and stained by semen and sexual sweating from two fully engaged bodies.

McCoy stiffened as his climax reached unbearable heights. Just as his semen sprayed that end of Spock’s quarters, McCoy opened his eyes and mouth wide. Spock would never get the place fumigated to please himself, but that was not important now. For now, Spock would learn what lay at the core of McCoy’s existence. If he had been a betting man, Spock would have sworn that McCoy would scream Spock’s name.

It was a good thing that Spock wasn’t a betting man, because he would’ve lost that bet.

“Squiggles!” McCoy screamed.

Spock stopped in mid-thrust. “What?”

“Squiggles!” McCoy screamed again like a madman. “Squiggles! They’re all over the wall!” McCoy turned his head in wonder. “Can’t you see them?! Squiggles!”

“Leonard. You are mis--”

“Now they’re forming words! One perfect love forever! Spock! The words from my locket are on your wall! They're so beautiful! Is your heart up there, too?! I must have it back!”

“Leonard. You are hallucinating. There are no--”

“Don’t tell me what I can see and cannot see!” McCoy declared and pulled away as Spock’s penis came sliding out of his rectum. McCoy lay on his side and presented his naked back to Spock.

“Leonard--”

“I don’t want to talk about it! If you don’t believe me, you don’t believe me!”

“But, Leonard--”

McCoy’s back looked stiffer, if that was possible.

Spock sighed. That had to be the shortest honeymoon in the universe.

 

Spock finally cajoled McCoy into halfway civility.

“I was expecting you to holler something else, Leonard,” Spock said later as McCoy lay in his arms after sonic showers and some soothing tea. “I could not have been surprised if you would have hollered ‘Avalanche!’”

“Funny you should say that,“ McCoy said with a tired grin. “It felt like I was engulfed in something tremendous that was both sucking me into it and making me explode outward at the same time.” His grin increased. “That’s quite a power station you have there.”

“It was my pleasure to take you on a personally conducted tour of my facilities,” Spock said proudly. 

“Hey, you’re a comedian at heart! I didn’t know that about you, Spock!”

“I have reason to be happy, Doctor,” Spock replied, fighting his own grin.

“I like it when your eyes twinkle like that. It almost makes you seem human.”

“Keep that up, Earthling, and you will have me laughing out loud yet.”

McCoy pulled back so that he was looking up into Spock’s face. “You telling jokes?! You laughing out loud?! What’s the universe coming to, Vulcan?!”

“It is not the universe, Doctor. It is me. I do not know why I fought a deeper relationship with you for so long.”

McCoy snuggled back into the space under Spock’s left arm. He didn‘t tell Spock, but he wanted to be close to Spock‘s heart. Now he held both of Spock‘s hearts: the symbolic one on his pendant and the real one beating softly under McCoy‘s shoulder. “Stubbornness. Just plain, old-fashioned, mule-headed stubbornness. I’m glad you finally changed your mind.”

“I believed that happened when I found you wet and shivering in the transporter room after you fell into the alien lake. I ran into the transporter room to reprimand you, and I left with you bundled in my arms. Not many men can tell exactly when they fell in love, but I can.”

“But why didn’t you say something? Why did you let matters stumble on between us the way that they did?”

“I had so many reservations. You had so many problems with past relationships. You came with so much history. I had to be certain. I did not trust, and for that I am indeed sorry.”

“You can’t take all the blame. I had trust issues, too.” He sighed deeply. “Hopefully, that is all over now.” He wriggled contentedly, seeking a more comfortable position when he already had it. Just snuggling in Spock’s arms was reward in itself, and any position should be comfortable. It was, but McCoy just enjoyed the luxury of wriggling against Spock. Each move presented new areas of his skin to touch new places on Spock. Oh, what a delicious occupation! McCoy made a note to do a lot of snuggling and wriggling in Spock’s arms every chance he got. He had the feeling that Spock would allow it.

“So you really did not see the words on your pendant in the forest clearing?” 

“No, I never did anywhere down on Narsarya B,” McCoy muttered.

“Why did you lie to me down on the planet?”

“I wanted it to be true,” McCoy answered miserably as he absently stroked Spock’s arm. “I hoped so hard that I could see the words that you had put on my pendant with such loving care. I didn’t want to disappoint you.” He grimaced. “I didn’t want to lose you, after it looked like I had finally won you.”

“Leonard. You would not lose me because you could not see words on a piece of jewelry.”

McCoy glanced back at Spock’s face above his. All that McCoy could really see was Spock’s noble jaw, patrician nose, and one arching eyebrow.

“How was I to know that? I know how important the pendant was to you and the fact that you had given it to me.” 

“And that is all that is important. Come, we must rest now,” Spock said as he cradled McCoy in his arms.

“I am not sleepy,” McCoy protested, even as he yawned. “Oh, hell, I don’t want to be sleepy.”

“I know. But I will be here when you awaken. I am not going anywhere without you.”

“You better not,” McCoy mumbled as he rooted against Spock’s side and shoved his face into the mat of black hair on Spock’s chest. “I always wanted to do this, you know. Root my face into this magnificent cushion.”

Spock felt a grin tickling his lips. “There are so many things that you have always wanted to do with me, Doctor.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to do them before I’m finished. Mark my word on that.” He yawned.

“Yes, Leonard, I hear you.” He rubbed McCoy’s arm and back. “Now, sleep, my beloved. Sleep.”

“That’s nice,” McCoy muttered as sleep overtook him. “Beloved. You are my beloved, too, you know.”

I know now for certain, Spock decided as he thought of the man who had given into Spock’s embraces.

That had been nice, too.

 

McCoy had been sleeping for awhile, and Spock had awakened from his dozing. He would welcome a trip to the bathroom to relieve himself, but he was not going to miss one moment of holding McCoy in his arms. What a wonder it was that he could finally do that as much as he wanted. How long he had waited just to be able to do this very thing, and the waiting had been worth it.

McCoy began to stir. He grimaced and moaned. “Sore,” he muttered.

You have a reason to be, Spock thought. Neither one of us was very careful. We both have scratches and bruises to prove it. Spock smiled. And you have a deeper, hidden pain inside you that I am proud to say that I applied with my thrusting.

“Spock? Spock? Where are you? Spock?”

“I am here, Leonard.”

“Don’t go,” McCoy begged as his fingers searched across Spock’s chest for his face.

“I am not going anywhere, Leonard.” He sighed. There went that bathroom visit.

“Want Spock.”

“I am here.”

“Want… Spock… inside.”

“Not now, Leonard. You are sore.” And I am full of piss. Not a good combination.

“Spock!”

Oh, hell, Spock thought, as he gathered the searching McCoy back into his arms. McCoy instantly quieted rooted around in Spock‘s arms, and fell back into deep slumber.

Meanwhile, Spock was berating himself. He had cursed. Granted, it had been inwardly and it had been a very mild curse compared to what McCoy could utter. Next, though, Spock would be cursing aloud. Then anything was possible. McCoy would be proud. Kirk would be stunned, not to mention Sarek. And sailors would blush.

He sighed and accepted his new career of cursing. He decided he was in store for all sorts of changes now that McCoy was going to be firmly established in his life. If that’s what it took to have McCoy, so be it. Spock would change almost anything now, except ridding himself of his little pepper pot. That was not negotiable.

When he thought that he dared, Spock managed to slip out of McCoy’s arms to answer his own primitive needs. As soon as he could, he eased himself back into the bed and fit himself around McCoy again.

McCoy smiled in his sleep. “Mine,” he mumbled.

“Mine,” Spock mumbled back and fell into a deep sleep himself. It was amazing what a bathroom break and peace of mind could do for a man’s ability to get a good night’s sleep.

 

“Do you two want to go somewhere and take care of that?” Kirk finally grumbled and let his exasperation show in his voice. Honestly, his First Officer and Chief Medical Officer were behaving like a couple of school children, shuffling around and almost giggling the way they were.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jim” McCoy answered, but his eyes were twinkling and he was visibly squirming as he tried to stay quiet.

Both McCoy and Spock were standing at ease, but were so close together that their bodies were pressed together at their upper arms and sides of their hips. Their hands were behind their backs, presumably with one hand resting against the open palm of the other hand pointing outward. Their legs were slightly apart because their feet were wide apart. The boots nearest each other were touching. There was no way that Kirk could see daylight between their bodies, but he could make out furniture clearly behind them because their legs were parted that much.

Then Kirk noticed that Spock and McCoy’s upper arms really weren’t pressed that much together. Spock’s arm was actually behind McCoy’s and seemed to be vibrating. In fact, his arm was rhythmically moving up and down. And McCoy’s arms had raised so that McCoy had a hunched appearance. Also, and this seemed almost unbelievable because it looked so uncomfortable, McCoy’s hips seemed to pushed back so he was squatting slightly. 

Kirk frowned. What the hell?!

Then Kirk knew what was going on.

Spock was rubbing his stiffened fingers rubbed up and down over the crack between McCoy’s hips. McCoy was trying to spread his hips by thrusting his rear end backwards. From Kirk’s angle, it looked like somebody scratching a dog’s back and the dog leaning into the accommodating hand.

“You two guys know, I suppose, that when you are at ease, your hands are supposed to be behind the back?”

“My hands are behind my back,” McCoy answered innocently.

“Well, don’t look now, Dr. McCoy, but there are three hands behind your back! Do you have an explanation for that?!”

McCoy shrugged. “Spock’s other arm isn’t long enough to reach. Otherwise, there would be four back there messing around.”

Spock’s eyes actually twinkled over that mischief making remark.

“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you, Mr. Spock?”

“I most certainly am, Captain.”

“Ouch! Was that a fingernail?! Are you losing control, Vulcan?!”

“I always lose control around you, Leonard,” Spock gushed.

McCoy gave him an adoring look back while Kirk rolled his eyes.

“You guys are making me physically ill, do you know that? And I just ate an hour ago,” Kirk complained. “My digestion will be off.”

“An hour?” McCoy queried. “You’re probably getting hungry again, aren’t you?”

“You’re making me sound like a glutton, Bones.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to make you sound like a glutton. You ARE a glutton.”

“Spock. Put your hand back on his asshole. He gets too testy, otherwise.”

“Gladly, Captain” Spock quickly complied. 

“Damn it, Spock! Now he’s purring! Isn’t there a happy medium with him?!”

“I haven’t found it yet, Captain. He’s either loving or very-- Well, very loving is better.”

“Hey! You guys are talking about me! And I’m still in the room!”

“I know, Bones. Mr. Spock is deliriously happy. But if he keeps rubbing his fingers so vigorously up and down your backside, he’s going to lose his fingerprints.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll rub a hole in my trousers.”

“Lucky for you. I swear, Bones, if there’s a hole shows up in the back end of your trousers, I’ll tell the crew a whooper. I'll say that you were having terrible gas pains after eating fiery chili and that your farts ignited your pants.”

McCoy gave Spock a loving look. “The only time I’d eat something fiery like that is if I was trying to spice things up for the Vulcan. He’s says that I’m like a volcano inside, already, though.”

“Gentlemen, please. Too many images.”

“Weak stomach, Jim?”

“Good imagination. I’ll be having to hunt up a young yeoman for some dalliance in my private quarters, if you two keep it up.”

“Just as long as the Vulcan does, I’ll be satisfied,” McCoy said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Ouch! Will you two stop it, already!”

“Me?”

“Stop trying to act innocent,” Kirk demanded, but he was having a difficult time because Spock could definitely not act innocent. He was overplaying it, for one thing.

But Spock would not quit. “What did I say?”

“It’s what you’re doing to the doctor.”

“Sorry, that is one thing that I will never give up.”

“I know. But limit it around me, will you? Now, go wash your hands so we can go eat. I know where your hands have been. McCoy! Where are you going?! Spock is perfectly capable of washing his own hands.”

“He might need some help with the faucet, Jim.”

“It is difficult to operate the faucets properly with my hands lathered, Captain.”

Kirk waved them away. “Oh, go do your hand washing. But I’d like to eat sometime before I lose all interest in food,” he said to his departing friends who were headed for the bathroom.

“Oh,” McCoy answered. “That means that we have plenty of time then.”

Kirk grinned. He’d never get ahead of them now. But just as long as they were together and happy, he was satisfied.

He heard splashing and envisioned two happy otters playing in the water.

“Clean up your messes!” Kirk hollered.

“The Vulcan started it!” McCoy hollered back.

I bet, Kirk thought as he grinned.

Then the bathroom got very quiet.

With a sigh, Kirk headed for the door. He might as well go eat and give his friends some privacy. They were going to be quite awhile with that hand washing.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing of Star Trek, its characters, and/or its story lines.


End file.
